Her words in soft and vulnerable tones raced a fever though his spine and smashed the resolve that had been trying to build. He watched in first confusion and then disbelief as she lifted the blade from his open hands and tossed it aside; eyes following it's path to rest. This was not the way it was suppose to be, duty was everything if he was to remain in control and explain to her why they could not be as it appeared they both wanted. His eyes finally moving to meet her gaze, the open and barren windows to the woman he knew existed. The woman he had wanted to nurture and draw out that now made him afraid to meet her again. Afraid that should she come before him now he may not be able to resist her and fail to straighten out the mess he had cause at the garden. To hurt her in a way no man had the right to do.

The glint of her ring as it transversed the black space between them and his sword caught his attention from the corner of his eye but he could not break the lock between them. His ear noted the faint click of metal against metal as it bounced off the blade and nestled into the soft lush grass. Like a knife that action had carved deep into his strength to end this here and now. Sliced back the hardened cover he had tried to stitch over his heart with the false stories that they would be just friends. That he could be with her and keep her safe as a friend or a sister and not look at her in the way only a husband should; with desire and passion for a joined heart.

Inside he wanted to scream; to drag himself out by the collar and beat sense into an empty head. This could not work, it could not be destined. He had found the one he was to tie his life to; had know it since there meeting so very long ago. Why could he not stand firm on that knowledge, why must his heart work to betray him and bring turmoil to those he cared about. Sirayn was the woman he should, no, would be tied to. He would see her thread continue in the pattern and find a place at her side before Tarmon Gai'don, there was no option. Gray eyes bloomed once more fierce and bright in his mind and he latched on to them mentally as they were the lifeline to a drowning man. He was drowning in the love and warmth of this beautiful women next to him; knew he would never be able to resist her request on his own if he did not find a source of strength. Please Sirayn, give me guidance and strength to do what must be... His thought broke off; recoiled back like a hand touching a hot coal as Lavinya's admittance of love caressed his ear and brought his heart back to control; the part that held deep seeded feeling for her.

She had said it, all their games and mysteries were washed asunder as her admittance soaked deep into him. There was no turning back, no way out that did not bring bitterness and sorrow. He had ruined another life here in the tower and for what? His own selfish thoughts and plans, his belief that he knew what was best for those around him. He falsely believed that he controlled the events around him; that he could set right what he imagined to be wrong. Fool!! You are a brainless goat! You do not deserve happiness. Wickedness is repaid in wickedness, she seen through you. Gave you what you deserved.

Heat of intense magnitude snapped him back from the internal berating as eyes dropped to witness the contact of her lips against the palm of his hand. No, I do not deserve your love. Her face seemed to fill his vision as every fiber of his being focused on the smooth skin of her face. The tender texture of her heart shaped lips. He felt her hand brush lightly along his cheek and he shamelessly tilted his head into the caress; his own hand catching hers and holding it pressed in place. He was here and now, with a woman that accepted him for all his faults and weaknesses. A woman that had seen his soul and still wanted to share her life with him. Perhaps he was not completely lost; perhaps there was hope that his life was not meant simply to be a warning to others.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it's back softly, relishing the warmth of the soft skin. Tender hands that would offer him no violence or harsh treatment. “Only a woman ... here with an man ...” his voice replayed her words back as if trying to convince his mind. Soft light words; whispers between them that his heart tried to seize. His other hand collect some of her soft red curls; swept them up tenderly to his nose and inhaled deeply; his eyes closed. Freedom flooded him with in a mix of light scents. He could be loved here, could be the man that might exist deep down and know that he belonged. That he was needed and accepted by someone. No .... no this is wrong. This is not why you are here. His head shook slowly, eyes still closed, as a vision of Sirayn's soft relaxed features bloomed anew in his mind. Visions of her peaceful slumber at the cabin tried to overwhelm the smell from Lavinya's hair, the softness of her hands, the texture of her curls. The image faded as his eyes opened once more fixed to her's.

“You have touched a part of me I never knew existed Lavinya, brought focus to a part I was scared to know. But now ...” his voice faltered as he searched for himself in her eyes. “You offer so much, are so open here with me ...” No ... no please you must stop his mind pleaded with his heart, tried to touch the spot still tender from Sirayn's banishment. He was teetering on the edge of loss and could not find the will to fall one way or the other. He held so many reasons to be with Sirayn, even if all he was to become was a trusted slave. But he also wanted the warmth and returned love that Lavinya now openly offered. A chance to be loved for who he was deep inside regardless of the skill he may or may not posses. Why could lightening not reach down from the sky and remove him from this age. The bubbles and the roses, had their poison been a little more potent he would not have to make this decision.

Hurt and panic filled his eyes as the battle raged internally; his hand slipped free from her hair and patted lightly the hand that remained in his. There had to be a way, some way to make all this right, which will you hurt? The thought left him cold and hollow inside, the heat falling from his eyes and replaced with bitter sorrow. “If I stay I will dishonor you, and yet even knowing that I can not find the strength to leave this place.” His voice was low, an anguish tinged it's edges as he fought what must be done. “I can not provide the happiness you deserve Lavinya. You are so precious and deserver so much more then this foolish shallow man can return.” His hands released her's gently as they fell back to his lap; back straightening. “All I do is cause hardships on those I care about and disgrace the Tower for which I serve. No one will question it, she will understand, your hatred for me and the hurt I have caused. What ever you deem necessary for punishment in return for your honor I accept from your hand. How foolish I was to believe that I would be worthy of service to an Aes Sedai, that I could be worthy of a confidence so complete as a bond.” His hand patted her thigh lightly as if reassuring her, his mind on the opportunity lost with Sirayn, “I would have been honored to have been chosen, but the hurt I bring will never allow that now.” The admittance in a whispered breath; eyes downcast while his tongue betrayed his inner thoughts. Coward!!! Where is your backbone when they are not in trouble. So willing to give up everything rather then hurt either of them. Willing to take the easy way out rather then face the choice between them like a man. You disgust me. He shed from the harsh words internally, knew how bitterly they spoke truth. A true guard would be able to make the decision easily. His old room mate would never make such a ridiculous mistake, even his troublesome Dorian didn't mess up this bad.

Corin

Broken and Vulnerable

Linten's smile remained warm like the morning was becoming under the still early sun. It would be a very warm day again with little promise of reprieve shown on any of the horizons. Her eyes held puzzlement for a moment but recognition never seemed to touch them and she returned to her work in relaxed routine. Good, she has not recognized the name. Perhaps the spineless one was too embarrassed to tell her of the boy he had coward from. Unseen tension eased from his shoulders as he reluctantly edged back from Saidin's sweet alluring call. He had been prepared to seize it after he announced his name; the simple weave of air already in his mind. If she would have lashed out he would have been ready to tie her in those flows like a deer slung throw a pole carried between two hunters.

But it appeared that would not be necessary at the moment, no doubt that would have brought Rion around. But it was still advantageous to learn a little more about his little pet project before he put the man's defenses up. A calm lamb enticed to the pen with sweet oats was easier too slaughter then a fighting ram. This Jocelyn certainly seemed to have a shape worthy of calling sweet. Her long dark hair was sure to draw many an eye to a cute face. He chuckled slightly as she seemed to read his mind with her comment and snort; have eyes in the back of her head to witness his eyes rove over her frame briefly. This one definitely held spirit, it was a shame she was tied to one so weak and misguided. Mentally he shrugged off the thought, there was still more work to be done.

~If she were Aes Sedai would you look at her so simply~

If she were Aes Sedai we would not be standing here chatting now would we you light challenged goat kisser. Be gone! ... I have work to do. The voice retreated into the recesses still mumbling incoherently, times like these drew a smoke thin tendril of worry if perhaps the taint they had been told about was eroding his mind. Determined desire for revenge shredded the momentary question as it seized his focus again. He had talked to many in the yard before making this approach and was very sure she was a simple civilian amongst the wolves. No Jocelyn was of little threat when all was said and done in his calculations. But she was potentially necessary bait that could be used as leverage against one of the many he would find retribution with. He had sworn that to himself many times as he hid like a small school boy from the nightmares that walked this age. But he was back in the safety of the yard again and working hard to master Saidin, he would never be a ...

~coward.~

The voice seemed to sneer at him from the dark corners of his mind hidden in shadow.

~Hiding, trembling like a baby under those stairs as the Aes Sedai searched the Inn. Curled up and sucking your thumb like a pitiful infant wrapped in mud under that log while misshapen forms strode past looking for their next meal. Now who is the pathetic one Linten! Who is the spineless jellyfish!!~

The voice in his head had reached a fevered pitch, unseen fingers pointing the accusations at him. His jaw clicked with tension as he fought to ignore the unseen accuser; to forget how much truth it spoke.

I am not that person any more, I will find my revenge. Mark my words I will find my revenge. The sound from the tension must have carried to her ears as she seemed to pause in her task and turn quizzically. With effort he washed the tension from his face, concentrated on the beginning exercises of the Flame and Void. He could not complete them and slip into the wonderfully isolated shell the void offered. It would raise too many questions and place a guarded presence over his bait. If she had noted the tension before it was released from his face she made no outward appearance of it. “Jocelyn, a pretty name, no doubt you have straightened out more then a few who underestimated the strength of a lady in skirts.” He offered her a slight bow as if addressing someone of a ruling house as his tone took on a pondering edge. “It seems a shame that there are still men out there who lack the proper edict when socializing with a lady in public. Anyone can see that you are obviously a close friend to Asha'man Rion.” It took great effort not to sneer and spit out the man's name venomously, one step at a time Linten. Walk before you learn to run, you need to instill confidence first.

Leaning on one of the poles supporting the ropes she used for her laundry he let his eyes rove over the yard briefly before returning to his present objective. “So tell me Jocelyn, if I am not being to forward or prying. Why is it that you would work so hard at something I am sure Rion could do in a matter of moments with Saidin? I do not mean to offend mind you, I am just curious why a person would choose this as something to occupy their time.”

Linten

Try as it might, the wind-driven rain could not perturb the grizzled features of the man standing, ankle-deep in mud, the sole inhabitant of the Black Tower’s training yards this miserable day. While his hidden mind resembled the storm around him, nothing passed across his ruined face as his lone eye searched the watery landscape for his class.

Standing in only his uniform black pants and a vest of the same colour, sanity was not the first thought to mind upon view. It was the foremost thought in his turbulent mind however. When his students finally straggled in, fighting the elements, Isha banished his doubts and began the class. He knew all the Dedicated already, having taught them all as Soldiers and knew that some would struggle mightily with this lesson.

“You have your weapons, gentlemen?” he called over the wind. At their affirmations, he smirked “Now the question is if you can use them. Find a partner who you won’t mind beating the living daylights out of... or the other way around in some cases. Extras are stuck with me.” Glancing around to see that all had followed orders- that had- he gave them their final instructions. “Now spar.”

Ooc: find yourself a partner and spar. I want two posts form each on the spar, you pick who wins and then we’ll move on.

_________________

Isha Talcontar

Aslan was walking to class, the weapons felt strange carying in the belt, it was not something he was used to. At home others had carried them out, at the road he had them straped in the sadle, and since he came here he had practised to much with the one power to do much with his weapons skills.

Futher more when it came down to it, they hadnt been his choise, well the bow still back in his room had, but the axe and dagger was tradtion. The Double headed axe crossed with the Quillion Dagger on a blue field made out their familys emblem.

And so every son of their household learned those two weapons, how it had come to be he was not sure, with his family beeing quite old the story behind it had been lost in time. He had always had problems not beeing of the strongest build to wield the bloody axe, and none less from the horseback where he had been thougth he was ment to use it.

However this morning picking it up had felt difrent and he had realised the daily work out in the mornings had strengthened his body, and so it wasnt that bad. To be sure of beeing prepared he had also straped the dagger to the back of his belt.

Aslan looked for an oponent, most with swords, which pretty much made the choise for him, he was not about giving up the length advantage of the axe, to be at disadvantage with the shorter dagger against those swords. And otherwise he would just have to relly on his footwork to not be to rusty, thoug it would be weird swinging the axe without the heigth gained from the horseback. As a noble most his training had happened from the back of a horse as it was unlikely he would ever if in the unlikelyhood of going to batle at all, be at foot.

_________________

Aslan

Player of Semirhage

I voted! Did You?

The wind driven rain seemed to stop inches from his face as it expanded out across the surface of the invisible barrier; tinny rivers of collected droplets giving it a cracked glass appearance. Those who could use Saidin, could wield it's power would be able to see the air shield. It's appearance was no more a concern then the weather it's self. Linten needed to hone and perfect his skills with the one power if he was going to be able to complete the tasks he had assigned to himself and as such worked with Saidin as often as he could. Today was no exception until he turned the corner and spotted the little group out in the yard, His tall and scared mentor standing at the head of the group. No one held on to Saidin; held weaves of any kind.

With a sigh of reluctance he released the weave and watched it dissipate, the rain at first a spatter making it's way to his dark clothes and then the full force of the storms fury lashing down on him. Isha had requested he bring his sword with him so the bastard was strapped across his back like it had that night Isha had taken him from this place. A tendril of cold fear tried to reach up and squeeze at his heart but he ignored it's icy touch and focused intently on the man that had been his instructor and mentor since his arrival to the yards; to both arrivals to the yard.

Standing just off to the left of the main group Linten listened to Isha's dry humor and instruction while his eyes scanned those present. It seemed the weapon of choice was the traditional sword but there were variations to that. Some longer, some shorter, even some with wicked curves to their blades. There was also a few unique in their own right; making note of a man with a firm grip on the shaft of an axe. His eyes were also roving over the crowd and Linten took a moment to ensure he made eye contact with the other. He was here to learn what he could, to master whatever skills the Creator blessed him with for the hunt he had planned.

This little trifle with hand weapons was most likely some way Isha believed he could break or bring back to heel his old mentee. For posterity sake he would humor the tall man and work with this group on weapons of steel and wood. But all he really needed was Saidin and all the weaves and practice he could lay his hands on. His enemies would be dead before they even were close enough to make out his eye color. Feeling the sudden sensation of being watched Linten turned his gaze back to the front and noted Isha's stare with a nod of his head; worked to release the sneer on his face before setting out to find a partner. Blend and be one of them, no notice, drawn no eye before it is time.

Linten al'Dracain

Working for the future

OOC: Estel and Ata, I hope you don't mind me putting the thread back up. I just wanted to add my post to it and notice it got ate in the outage. If ou want to go back and post your own let me know and I will delete this one.

Light cut a slanting slash through the dimness of the room; dust mots illuminated in their dance through the stream. The shrill sound of a piper high in the tops of a nearby leather leaf added a change to the regular muted sounds from the yard. Here where men trained hard to master a force that would kill them sooner or later. Pressed on through adversity to find a skill that would be of use in the coming days, months, or years leading up to Tarmon Gai'don. There was little doubt the time was nearing, thought no one could truly say how soon it would be upon them. All must be ready to serve at the Lord Dragon's side when the day of judgment arrives. The thought was cold and distance like the slightly distorted reflection of a man looking back at his eyes from the mirrored glass. A diamond glint of light raced along the small silver blade set on night's black cloth at his neck. His hand caressed the sword pin delicately before falling back to his side.

~So proud of a simple trinket of metal. So small it could not be of any real use or value. Is this the future you see; the desire so readily quenched now that you are the faithful lap dog.~

The deep growl that echoed in his throat sounded like a wolf preparing to spring on it's victim, the last sound they would hear before their throat was torn open and life giving red painted the floor. I am no one's lapdog! This is a means to an end, an end of those who do not swear to the Lord Dragon. An end to the witches who refuse to come to heel like proper servants. His hand swept across the top of his shoulder crisply smoothing the black fabric. But first I have an acquaintance to make and renew. A long standing debit to pay. With one final look a the pin now adorning his collar he turned and headed out of the barrack, a man on a mission with a purpose as dark as the fabric he wore.

Eyes squinted slightly as they adjusted to the brightness of the clear day. Earlier as the sun was still just a thought on the horizon he had traveled the yard, worked his routine around the track and through the training grounds. But his goal today was not continued practice of Saidin and it's mastery. Today was the beginning of a plan that had been festering in his broken mind for a very long time. Since his eyes were opened to the worlds true horrors after Isha had abandoned him in the blight. Linten had remembered the name of the man who was the cause of that abandonment and isolation. The reason he had had to hide from women of the blasted White Tower. “Rion” the word was more of a hissed whisper then a true word, but even as a whisper it was filled with venomous hatred.

He had taken great care since his return to learn a lot about the small and timid little man he remembered vividly from the last night he had been in the yard before that trip. Even after Linten had set eyes on him again with the dragon pin of an Asha'man. The picture of that frail whimpering fool at his feet begging for his life was all that his mind could believe. How he had fooled all those here that he was worthy of such an honor was beyond Linten's comprehension. It had to be a trick of that woman he kept company with, the one that held his leash. It came as no surprise to find him following along behind the lead of a woman like a faithful and obedient puppy; the thought of it made him sick. No man should answer to a woman, submit to her rein. Now it was time to find out just what this leash holder was like and if she would amount to much of a fly in the ointment of his plans.

Prior observations had formed out her routines and habits; the places she liked and the paths that took her there. The first meeting had to be one of fairly public viewing and perhaps a little less threatening then he would like. But then it would do no good to study and practice for weeks in the creek only to finally make it to the river and scare off the fish because you dropped the lure in to close. She was quite involved in her work, one might even say lost in the task at hand when he approached. Made no indication that she noted his arrival or offered any greeting; her back still to him as she reached back into the basket. “Good day, I do not believe we have met, but we do have a mutual acquaintance.” He bowed slightly as she turned to face him. “I am Linten, and you are?” His voice was warm though he forced the emotion into it while anger and vengeful desire simmered under the surface begging to be set free.

Linten al'Dracain

Vengance just begining :twisted:

Rhythmically the snow and ice crunched under boot; reminded him that for another day he still drew breath and would face yet another sunrise. Watch as that sunrise brought forth the view of a hundred shades of red spilled out on the country side as men he sent to battle, men he battled alongside of met the dark anarchy that had besieged these lands and brought forth Mothers decision to send so many of there number to pay this bill. The simple though of her blossomed those never ceasing gray eyes in his mind again. A source of comfort and strength, a source of constant aggravation and challenge. As confusing and fluidly changing as the battle field, she held him in toe though he still could not reason why he found such dire need to be what she obviously had no need of. It was said that women were like a blacksmith's puzzle and indeed he had found that to be true. Only when added with the light's ironic twist of a shawl; it became a blacksmith's puzzle in the hand of a blind man with only one arm.

Shadow flicked in a pool of light and had his eyes attention instantaneous though he made no movement beyond that. Life and death hanged on the smallest of movements; the quickest reactions. But not everything in this place dealt death. Too large a force filled these closed walls in truth, at least in his opinion for what it was worth. More then once he had been to a tavern to drag off soldiers drunken beyond civility. It was expected when dealing with the numbers here. A way for men who had to face another day in the sea of red and steel to find a bit of solace from the nightmares that would come. He was a strong believer in keeping the off duty antics of men and women needing a release from the stress of war away from civilian eyes. They could not understand the horrors of the battlefield as it closed around you. The shouts of anger, cries of mercy and the pleading rasps of a man dieing at your feet. Nightmares, at times his life seemed to be an endless nightmare. He had come here in hopes of helping, in hopes of clearing his head and finding a meaning for his existence in the Tower's service. Yet faced with all the chaos that surrounded him one person above all else still plagued him relentlessly.

As if on cue, the creator's hand reached in to set pieces in motion; Corin's mind flickered on his ironic sense of humor. Why is it with you there is always trials and tests. Like night's own existence wrapped in a thick blanket of snow the girl swept in next to him. The sway of her steps only partially masked by the thick white fur covering her. Even wrapped as she was she still seemed to make the fur come to a life of it's own. There was trouble with this one, Corin could feel it before she had even spoke her first word. At one time her face might have caught him off guard, placed wonder in were such a beauty could be from. But the trials with a certain Lavinya Sedai and the object of his life's goal had helped to ensure a quick resolute to future matters of awe for her kind. The Tower had many in it's folds and he recognized them easily now. With the skill only a Domaini woman could have her eyes portrayed a hundred compliments and promises in the span of a few heart beats. Trained from childhood it was said and he believed it so. Even more as she slipped her arm around his and pressed in closer, the look offering the observer a plethora of ideas yet committing to none, as if making the person not sure if there really was promise there or if it had been imagined. Yes this one was as dangerous as a tub full of silverpike; Already he could she Sirayn's cold and distant look as she studied a fool, could her the scorn and ice edge in her voice as she cast him away yet again.

Glancing over to the dark pools that bed him to sink into, “Enlist, it is no matter to joke about girl.” She looked barely able to defend herself should someone decide her look promised a pleasure she did not intend to offer. But even the smallest and tenderest branch on a tree worked to keep it alive. With the mired of trainee's he had had to date he was learning quickly not to discount the abilities of anyone. A lesson from the field of battle honed by Sirayn Sedai that he carried in his personal as well as professional life. After his failure so completely at the hands of Lavinya Sedai as Sirayn had seen it he was far more cautious with those of the opposite sex. Especially those of her heritage. Light he wanted Sirayn to see him as the man she had know before all that had transpired; before Lavinya, before his foolish plan with the cabin. But she was far from this place and still at a distance even when he was in the same room as her.

“What makes you want to give up the safety and warmth of a comfortable house; the benefits of a city to supply your needs? Why would you want to give up all to spend your days hard at labor, cold and hungry with only your fellow men and women at arms as friends and confidants?” The warmth of her arm wrapped around his, the heat where her body pressed to his from hip to shoulder picked at his mind but he forced the sensation to the distance. Focus was the game he would need until this one was discouraged enough to offer something other then enlistment. Then it would be easy to find reason's why duty and chaos would not allow him the free time to escort her in further adventures. His eyes flicked to the her face briefly as his pace across the square continued. Far to pretty to be stained in blood and dirtied from the field, go home girl. A soldiers life is not for you.

Okay,

So I am still awaiting offical status approval and change but Linten would love to help out if there is still a need of people.

Linten

The warmth of her touch even if it was a grip of force had been a welcome and unexpected event. It had changed his course once more and set her firmly in his focused future. At one time he had felt he may have to abandon his hope of a future at her side and remain ever vigil from a distance. But everything had changed with her touch; with the gravity of the situation before him and the dire need of his mentee. All accumulated to bring forth the emotional outburst; something without thought. Touch that had crushed the walls around him and brought to the surface his tender heart for her. Only it had been a clever ploy, a ruse to get him to open himself up; be vulnerable. Sirayn's sharp and cold detachment from him; words harsh and emotionless raked deep furrows in the tender barren surface of his heart. Words that cut with bone chilling accuracy into his openness and shattered the man who he was. A tendril of pure scorn and hatred tried to worm it's way up from dark depths; a potential in all mankind. But his heart, still battered and bleeding, shredded the tendril ruthlessly. It had been his own doing; so grievously he had wronged her in taking her away to the cabin. At the words that had tainted his mind for a spell. No ... no it was her right to retreat from him like he was diseased, worst then the lowest of cut purses or life takers.

The harsh reality of it was like hot steel thrust into icy river water in the dead of winter; snapping his focus back into razor clarity as blankness once more swept his face. Corin rose from the chair, empty eyes fused to the storm gray of Sirayn Sedai. The back of a hand absently wiped across his face to ensure no tear or sweat lay on the surface to offer emotion where cold detached control must be. “If you will excuse me Aes Sedai I have a mentee to check on and a report to write up.” A cold edge emphasized her title while he bent just enough to classify as a bow and no further. A time prior she would have received a depth suitable her stature, suitable a queen in reality. But this day she received nothing beyond that of the most basic of acknowledgment. Fire blazed in his eyes behind that blank mask; a fire that promised this was not done, not yet. Regardless of her desired effect she had recommitted a man to gaining acceptance at her side once more, you are not so easily rid of me Sirayn Damodred .... Not yet.

It took only a few brief strides to make the boy's bedside and the mumbled voice of it's inhabitant. He could still feel those ever measuring slate eyes on him as he approached the yellow still bent over Dorian. “My thanks to your skill and commitment Aes Sedai, you an your sisters are a true jewel in the crown of the Tower.” His bow was fit for a court audience and he took great care to hold it a fraction longer then needed. Even one so controlled as you can not avoid a thread of bitterness within my dear Sirayn. With a nod of acknowledgment the sister went back to issuing orders to a pair of banded accepted before she swept down the hall and Corin's eyes returned to the boy in the bed; His hand closing firmly around the others. How to explain. How do I tell him he is alone in this world now. Disjointed words ebbed from Dorian as his hand alternated between gripping his in almost desperation and just laying placid within Corin's hold. But each word brought a deeper regret; a desire to go back. Be faster, be earlier, be ... It did not matter, what had been done was done, and now Corin faced one of the toughest challenges he had ever faced in the walls of the Tower.

Through the jumble of broken words in horse and raspy tones a mistake Corin had not expected crystallized in front of him with a knife sharp clarity. The boy believed him to be Danian. As if the explanation would not be enough. Now he had to explain to a boy who should not be in this condition about a brother that should not still be lying out in the cold rain still and pale as the last of life's red essence leaked from his body. He patted the hand held in his own, light how do I explain? Thoughts on his brothers voice, the inflections he had, filtered through his mind and were dismissed. The boy had been blind all his life; compensated for that lose with other heightened senses. He would recognize the attempt for what it was; recognize the differences in depth of tone and edge of word. To imitate Danian would only be a slap in the face and alienate the boy further. “Dorian .... Dorian I need you to listen,” His voice had started cold and empty with the first word but softness tried to easy the blow of the rest. He pressed a finger to the boys mouth as he opened it to add more words. “Please Dorian, I need you to just listen right now.” A gentle nurturing tone seemed to wrap around the words as they left Corin's mouth and for a moment he was not even sure it was his own voice that spoke. “Dorian you have been hurt ... badly .... but you were close enough that the sisters were able to heal you. Most of you at least. But your brother,” Corin's hand patted lightly the back of Dorian's who's grip had tightened further. “He fought valiantly to save you, to ensure those that attempted this dark deed paid for it. You should be proud of him, I am. He has done great honor to your family name. But all honor comes with a price, and sometimes the price is high. The Butchers bill is always high when steel is involved. He did not know if Sirayn still remained in the room, eyes watching. He cared not if she listened and recorded every weakness he offered. The boy was his charge and would need more then orders and training to get through this. “Your brother by blood has moved on to the creators embrace, but you are not alone. You are still among brothers and sisters Dorian, with us you will never be alone.”

For all the sharpness he had been told his mind held, little else came to the surface. Struggle as he did he could find no other words to offer in place of the loss Dorian had received. Even his time with Lyv when she had received news of her mothers passing did not feel as hollow and empty as this. A good mentor, a strong soldier would have words of wisdom and comfort at a time like this. Know how to ease the pain of those in his charge and make them feel safe and secure again. Would know the words to bring dedication and focus to a future goal. Corin had no words for that, knew he was not one of those strong a great men of stories and legends. He was only a farm boy in the service of the White Tower. A boy inside in hope that there could be a bright ending when the dust of Tarmon Gai'don settled.

Linten could feel the sarcasm in Isha's voice, feel the weight the tall boarderman added to his words; the underlying threat. It appeared he was indeed on very shaky ground and not just with the powers that be either. It seemed his own mentor had misgivings and perhaps second thoughts on his one time bright mentee's future.

~Can you really blame him after trying to kill him ... could you trust yourself~

Linten flinched from both Isha's words and the dark voice in his head. He knew in this instance the voice spoke truth and had on occasion before. What is truth and what is not. It was becoming hard for him to differentiate anymore. They all seemed to blend together and form an eye jarring gray pallet of half truths and lies. But time for self pity and reflection would have to wait as Isha once more began to weave a pattern of earth wrapped in spirit and forced it into the ground. The resulting spikes of earth destroyed the straw dummy from below and caused a faint chuckle to resound in his head. Was that his voice or the shadows? He moved on without hesitation now. Linten recorded the weave as best he could remember to his memory as Isha began the next weave. Studying the way the threads slipped into form and lay intricately woven around the others was a difficult feat but Linten was determined to get all the weaves. To understand how the weaves were to form and how they would work to the end he needed of them. Tarmon Gai`don was coming and the Dragon needed those witches firmly in hand; that was the part he would play.

Even as he watched the weave settle on the rock he could feel his eyebrows draw down. The frown from his thoughts flicking across his face for the span of a heartbeat before he could wipe it back to the emotionless mask that he had to maintain. He felt Isha's eye studying him and hoped his slip had gone unnoticed. Whether it had or not Isha gave no indication as he continued the lesson in rapid succession.

Watching with intent interest Linten recorded the process for the fireball, this was a weapon he could find much use for. Between that and the core heating weave his mentor had just demonstrated there were a great many purposes he could fashion them to.

~Cooked from the inside, properly done no one would notice the cause. Lungs charbroiled and unable to transfer life giving oxygen to blood or a heart cooked to a solid unwaivering mass.~

Linten's mind added faces to the voices dark thoughts, found a twisted pleasure that should not exist in the thoughts of watching a person slowly suffocate and not know the why. The corners of his mouth had twitched toward a twisted smirk as Isha sent the fireball crashing into the center of a dummy; the underlying challenge grating on his bones like a saw.

~Show him ... what does he know .... use him as the demonstration. See if his mind can grasp the depths of your wanting.

The cackle that followed the voice raised the hairs on the back of is neck and he forced his eyes shut, concentrating on the flame. Feeding everything into it; falling into the safety of nothingness. The voice on the outside of the glass, for now at least. He floated in the abyss; control in his grasp and Saidin singing it's alluring song to him; carrying him on it's torrent of ice fire and pleasure. Reaching in he pulled out the brown earthen thread and began the weave from memory; added a thick wrapper of spirit . The threads slipped past one another weaving the patterned lace he had seen Isha make. But it's shape was wrong and he was forced to change the weaving several times before the pattern took on resemblance of what his mentor had created. Opening his eyes as his hand swept out smoothly toward a tight cluster of straw forms he watched as the weave settled into the ground and then added a quick burst of added energy to the spirit threads as his hand closed quickly into a fist. Spikes burst up from the ground four feet in hight splitting the straw forms almost in two.

Pleasure coursed through him as his mind added blood and flesh to the now impaled forms. The spikes were thinner then Isha's but they served the purpose well. This was just a taste of the power he could harness through Isha's teachings. The man had moved well up the ranks; there had to be much knowledge for Linten to squeeze from him; to leech every morsel possible and then convert that knowledge to the tools he would need. But he still needed something in which to trap and hold the witches, how to shield and enslave them so that they could server properly the Dragon's needs.

You mean your needs.

He had already begun the next weave when the voice spoke. Fire woven in thin intricate weaves as empty eyes seemed to study the rock outcrop under a pair of the target dummies. The weave was slowly forming but much slower the Linten wanted, needed. Shut up, you know nothing of it. Where were you when they hunted me? The threads of fire thickened as anger began to pulse on the void. What good were you in the blight when we were lost, alone, left to die? The pattern formation quickened and settled on the rocks. A low hiss escaped him before the sound of the exploding rock masked it. Who kept us alive!! Rocks and debris tore through his pant legs and sleeves; rent cuts where the projectiles found flesh in there travel. While others simply rebounded away from him. He still did not have the familiarity of second nature with regards to the air shield and so had only been able to complete enough of it to cover his torso and head before the cache of edges exploding out of the rock formation reached him. Pain slithered on the surface of the void, lunged at it's surface trying to gain access but he ignored it's futile efforts and raised a hand in front of him.

Fire and air met and entwined around each other, curled and twisted to fold around that which had started. The ball began to take shape over his hand; yellow, orange, and red colors swirled and mixed like a violent storm inside the ball. With the shape formed he pour fire into the weave, felt the intensity grow and build as his eyes sought out it's victim. Glancing back at his mentor he noted the intensity of the gaze he now held on Linten, the edge the gazed had held following his initial challenge with the fireball. Studying the ball he tried to push with his mind, tried to visualize pushing it away from him. Sweat beaded on his face as the heat continued to pulse from the orb before him. Closing his eyes Linten took a deep breath and imagined the ball floating to the target he had selected, moving like an arrow to it's destination. The heat remained in front of him and he was now conscious of Isha's eye on him; his mind added mocked cynical laughter at the failure of such an easy task. Put jeers in his mentor's voice and flung them in his own face. Anger seethed like a coiled snake on the void's surface. Desire and need beat on the cracks. The void shook under the barrage of emotion and hatred for a moment and then crashed in splintered shards of glass. With a scream Linten flung is arm forward as if throwing a ball, his eyes flying open in crazed bewilderment as the fireball raced across the distance and enveloped the middle of the manikin he had been facing. Need still pulsed in his body, desire to see that contact flesh; watch it's form fall to the ground flailing in agony.

Only as his eyes followed the smoke's rise to the sky did he become aware of the spittle dampening his chin, the forward lean of his posture and once more the intense gaze of his mentor. Drawing the back of his hand across his mouth he stood up full and smoothed the front of his shirt as if nothing had transpired; hoped it looked like nothing had happened, prayed that Isha had not noticed. “You were right, it is not an easy thing this throwing without motion. You must teach me this some time yes?” His voice had started out a little strained but he quickly reined it back in, finishing with a flat and steady tone as eyes barren of emotion once more met his mentor's. “Thank you for the challenge Isha, you have reminded me firmly that I have a long way yet to go.”

OOC: np mentor O mine .... I took sometime and got a little chatty also. ;)

Her words held no warmth, not heat, no anger. There was nothing in her tone or delivery; absolute nothing, flat, emotionless; void of anything to give light to her true feelings. That emptiness pressed down on Corin with the weight of the whole tower. The greatness of absence twisted his insides as certain words resounded in his head. ”between you and your legions ... excuse me .... to you.” She didn't understand, how could she believe him so frivolous. She had been right about his error with what had transpired between Lavinya Sedai and himself in the garden. It had been utterly foolish of him. Her training had taught him better; he had passed her tests harder then that. Tempted with women just as shapely; had them pour out warmth and heated promises in subtle but very sweet tones. Lavinya had not done that, had not used her tricks of heritage on him yet it was with her he had stumbled. Why? Why did she effect him so. Was it because she did not try to use him, was it because of that simple woman he had glimpsed behind the Aes Sedai serenity and shawl?

He no longer knew anymore, everything was mixed up and poured out upside down. He wanted her to know him, trust him, feel for him as ... as he did her. He still felt something very strong for the isolated and distant green sister he had made the agreement with so long ago. What was it he felt? Did he know anymore; did he know anything anymore? At one time he believed the world in the palm of his hand, a jewel of the Tower sufficiently snared under wing. Foolish! He had been a fools fool to think he could have so easily twisted her to dance to his music; to lead one in the shawl so long around by the nose. She had taught him lessons there was no mistake about it. Lessons he would never forget, lessons she would never let him forget. How simply she had caught him in her web's and snares; even a new born colt fresh from the birthing sac would have been more conscious of the path she had directed him. It was not his music she danced to but rather quite the opposite. Only she did not play nor direct; simple yet oh so powerful looks, the air of authority and unending confidence were her band. Words and phrases with their mirade of possible meanings, all delivered with out any depth of emotion, her baton. This is what she used to direct the orchestra of events she carefully spun out in layers she herself could only truly understand.

Yet he could see no other course before him now or back at there first meeting in which he would change. So thoroughly she had him under thumb that his own life he would willingly forfeit to ensure the continuation of her own. But she did not seem to notice; seemed not to care that he would give every fiber of his being to her and her purpose. All that he was and would or could become was hers to do with as she would see fit. Only she seemed to find nothing of worth in him, no use for his skills or talents. He had worked hard at her lessons; drank in every nugget of information and skill she offered to him. Tried beyond all measures to be the tool she would need; would want. Yet she paid him no notice, no matter how well he met her challenges or jumped to her tasks. How could she not see the light in his eyes when she had need of him, his step lighter and quicker when he could serve her greater purposes.

No, no instead all she seemed to see before her was failure and disappointment. A woolheaded goat brain still fresh from the farm and moon eyed over the great city and all it's treasures. He was more then that but she refused to see it. Perhaps it was the surroundings, he longed to call out to her as she turned and left. To find some way to make things the way they were suppose to be, not this monstrosity of confused communication and false thought. Lavinya Sedai was a friend, sure it had started a little heated. But his head had cleared and there was a friendship he wanted to keep; a women inside that Aes Sedai shroud that longed to be released and he wanted to see her out. A dear and deep friend she could be and he was beginning to see that those were few and far between. There was no shortage of surface friendships and general well wishers in the Tower. But true, deep, committed, and trustworthy friends that could see you at your worst or your very best and not judge you but instead accept you as you were. Those were few and far between; fewer still if they were Aes Sedai.

That was what he wanted, what he sought with Sirayn. Perhaps more, but small steps first and see where the path went. If it was to come to something deeper then that friendship he would welcome it immensely. But even if all she was willing to share was that deep level of friendship he would gladly accept it and cherish each of it's moments. Being such a private and closed off women made it a daunting task. Worse then any black smith puzzle, yet he was determined to find it's solution, there has to be one. I know there must be one, but how? With a person like Sirayn things had to be treaded on very carefully in public. Closed off and very detached was the facade she portrayed in public and that was not about to change for a simple guard with no standing in her books.

Light twinkled in jade eyes, making them bright and inviting. The idea seemed to simple, he had though of it before. Even secured certain substances that were rumored to aid in the plan that had been hatching, re planed, discarded, and now revived again. It was simply the only option left really. She would be greatly annoyed but alone and isolated they could talk freely and he would be able to sooth her ire over the surprise. Surely she would see why he had to do this, and she would be able to safely let down her iron grip on the emotional void she held in public. They would finally be able to talk freely and understand where this relationship was going; where it could possibly go. She would see him for the dedicated person he was to her and bring him to her service in a way only an Aes Sedai could; a warder .... bonded to her. A strange smile had manifested on his face and he noticed it not while his mind reveled in the possible future he painted with great delight. Yes it would work, all he needed to do was figure out where they could go. His stomach growled loudly and seemed to turn over in place as another novice came by with a tray of food. She stopped and passed him the plate steaming;savory smells and spices assailing his nose. Even before the fork was in hand his mouth was watering in anticipation. With a giggle the girl smiled at him warmly before turning to rush off again. Her crystal blue eyes held the dancing twinkle of flirtation; soft supple lips spread in an inviting smile. But Corin paid her little heed beyond a quick thanks for the food before he dove in. He still had much to plan.

Interested if they can handle him ;)

Still nothing showed on Isha's face. There had been a time when the man would have offered small praise, a smile; reassuring nod at a job well done. But now he offered cold and separated distance, dark glares and quick changes. The man Linten had trained under seemed to no longer exist. As if to emphasize that the ground became unstable under his feet as he tried to study the new set of weaves his mentor now spun out before him. Worked with exceedingly difficult concentration to see how each thread was laid to the other while his body was bounced and buried and dropped. Agitation battered the smooth surface of the void begging to be let in. Spider webs of cracks and chips cascaded over it's surface. A piece of him, a very dark piece wanted to embrace that agitation; feed from it's supple hatred and anger.

~Does the coppery taste of blood sooth you so now?~

Desperation drove his mental mind to lash out at the poisonous thought, to crush it to the dark depths of some distant corner. Desperation in the fear that it spoke true, that he had felt a momentary warmth from it's sardonic words. His mentor's words only served to fan those flames with a brief gust of air as the weaves dissipated. I'll show him waste of dummies, he could not avoid the dark caress as eyes focused on the rapid pattern slipping into existence before him. Like a feeding frenzy of flesh eating fish he could feel the need to prove he was more then what Isha remember. To put some kind of emotion on the man's face, make him pay for those frightful nights when worse then nightmares had roamed around him; hunted him. Even as the weave settled into place on the ground around Isha's feet Linten was in motion scrambling from the depths of the hole his mentor had created while the same mentor dropped his full hight in an equivalent tomb. But that subtle caress of anger already had the next weave in progress. Threads of earth and water slipping over and under each other set tight and settled on the sides of the earthen hole creating a thick cascade of mud that filled it to Isha's waist.

Were work and uncertainty had held his ability with the weaves loose and slow. Anger and it's heated embrace raced the pattern to mind and forced the threads into being. No!! ... No this is not right. Linten's hands reached for his head as if to catch the thought and keep it; like a life line to sanity. But still the next weave had begun to form. Not a weave of earth or water like had been show to him but one of the earlier weaves of air. I ... I must stop this .... it's wrong.

~He will kill you just like the witches. He left you in the blight to die, to twist like the vegetation; rot from the inside out.~

No!!! His head shook visibly, no you are wrong. He is my friend ... my only friend. His arms swung out from the middle away from him and the weave dissipated; the spear melting back into nothingness. A slight tremble edged his voice as he fought to regain control. “My apologies Isha, I have confused the weaves. I will continue with earth as instructed.” The tremble was minute but there, with luck the man would think it from the effort of the weaves only. But Linten could not pull his eyes from Isha. Again he drew earth from the sweet warmth of Saidin and formed out the first weave Isha had shown him. Placed the threads as thick as he could to one another; felt the pain of pressure as he pulled deeply on Saidin and felt it call to him more.

The weave settled to the ground and everything in the near vicinity around him shook as if in deaths throws save for the ground he stood. Eyes still lock with Isha's; bewilderment in their edges. I must find the control I had ... I need. Control, peaceful empty control. His eyes closed and he worked back through the exercises he had been taught to reach the sanctity of emptiness in the void. The voice buzzed and battered it's surfaces but the void's clear smooth glass like surface held. A slow steady breath exhaled from him evenly as earth began again to weave in front of him. The threads were thinner, closer to what Isha had used for demonstration and they melted into the ground around the Hole Isha still stood in. Linten was calm again and in his mind he could picture the exact spot the man stood; placed the weave around him and heard the ground rise up around his mentor as if a giant invisible hand had reached down and pulled the ground up into form.

Slowly his eyes opened; empty, void of the earlier emotion. His face held blankness as if a barren painters canvas. With a sweep of his hand he laid a weave upon the hilled soil and watched as it returned to the smoother surface it had been. He had found himself once more; found peace and purpose in perfect balance. His voice carried the hollow empty sound of the void as he bent his head. “My mentor I am sorry for my foolish confusion earlier. If it pleases you and the light I would like to continue. You have such wealth of knowledge and I am but a seed in the ground waiting for the water of life to bring for germination.”

~Yes, learn. We have much work ahead of us.~

Linten forced his body still to keep the shiver that raced his spine from becoming visible. He could almost envision the cold and calculating smirk in the dark that produced those last thoughts.

The wind pulled hard at the wrapping and layers but little touched Corin’s conscience as he followed the rag tag group that Shawn was leading down to the boat. His latest mentee garnished more thought then the weather as he measure the boy once more. Dorian had proved to be more then a handful and he was not about to let another turn to that level of work. Corin would grant him lenience for his tardiness this time. But he would make sure the boy knew it would not be tolerated.

Arriving at the dock Corin moved forward to converse with the captain. He had chosen this shallow keeled vessel several weeks ago especially for this trip. He had even arranged the payment then to ensure the captain would be in harbor when he was needed. After a brief discussion of why they should not be out on the water today and why they would be. Corin motioned to the men to load on while he slipped and additional purse to the Captain in passing. This was costing far too much for a training mission, but he was going to make sure they were trained and useful.

The men spread out on the deck trying to find a place were the wind might not bite as deep. But there was little cover anywhere on the boat. It had no lower level and the sides were minimal coverage because of their low walls. Stifling a small smile at the scene of the men milling about looking for cover while his eyes sought out one person in particular. Finding him, Corin moved toward the back of the deck where Shawn had located himself.

“Thank you again for offering to help me with this group Shawn. The help is greatly appreciated, especially with the warm reception the weather is giving us.” He chuckled and slapped the man lightly on the shoulder. It was comforting to know that at least one of his mentees had made it to the cloak, and that while knowing his place the whole time he had been a trainee. He was proud of the man standing next to him and knew his future would be a bright one in the ranks of the Tower Guard. “We are heading down river about half a days travel by boat. I have already showed the captain where I want him to make landfall. From there I want to head them into the tree line for about a mile. There we will find a small clearing and we can get them setting up camp so we can start this training. The weather and blowing snow should be enough to confuse them as to the exact location and distance back to the river. But to make sure, while you are leading them there add a few turns and legs to the route. Perhaps vary the step pace and speed a little too if you wouldn’t mind. I want to see how wood wise these boys are,” he gave Shawn a quick wink; grin broad on his face before he looked back over the deck toward the scattered group.

The boat lurched as the mooring lines were removed and the oars began to move it toward the harbor mouth and the rapid current of fidget waters that would carry them south. Creator and light, keep a safe eye on these boys. They may need your care before this is down. Completing the little prayer he turned his attention back to the conversation with Shawn, his mind continually playing out options. Training had been drilled in to him deep and his mind settled into the comfortable pattern of plans and alternatives to see his group out and back without loss.

Kill silently a thrill raced through him at the thought his mentor's words brought to mind. A chance to even the field; dispatch justice on the witches in their glorious white tower. They sat in it's stone confines and dictated to the world how it would form; who would live and who would be subject to a misery worse then death it's self. Now he would learn further ways to educate that blood red falsehood of women who believed themselves equal to the creator himself. It was a gift from the creator that he could touch Saidin and he would never let them take that from him; not with out staining the ground in a river of their vile blood. A image of an ageless face, small rivulets of blood flowing down to mix with the shawl of equal crimson color; the eyes begining to take on that long distance look of death's hold. There would be no mother earth's embrace for them. They would be scoured in fire and sent back to the Father of Lies from whence they came. Only from his mind could such vile and venomous creatures be spawned. A smile twitched the corners of his mouth; curled the edges slightly as he focused on the weave.

“Change the form to kill,” a warmth touched his voice; as if almost a fondness wanted to be known. The weave floated before him and Linten carefully looked at it's shape; studied the way the threads interlaced one another and cascaded out to build the shield in front of him. After a long period of idle study he began to pull at the threads; never removing them only changing the way they lay in connecting and opposing layers. The thickened air began to warp and fluctuate in front of him. At one point it almost collapsed back in on it's self and Linten was forced to pour thick flows of Spirit wrapped air into it to keep it's shape as he corrected the weave. Each time he could sense Isha stiffen, feel the older man's grasp on Saidin tighten in preparation. Finally the weave rolled over on it's self and formed into a hollow ball. Looking back down at the manikins his left arm motioned and the ball rose high overhead and out toward a small cluster of straw dummies awaiting there intimate fate. Satisfied the ball was in the place he waited and poured further energy into it. It hovered momentarily; oblivious to any eye save that of a channeler of Saidin. No one would see this fate until to late. With a sudden gesture the ball was pulled from the sky above to crash down on the stiff straw forms crushing them as a boulder of rock might. Splinters and debris blew out in all directions from the force, knocking over a manikin that had escaped the initial blow. A flick of Linten's wrist sent the ball rolling toward the escapee. The edge opened as it rolled over him; closing behind to encase it inside the ball. With a slight chuckle Linten pulled the weaves tighter over them selves; watched as the ball began to shrink until it made contact on the straw. His fingers closed suddenly into a fist; the ball collapsed in on it's self to form a small solid form of air, the straw inside pressed into a small tight ball surrounded by the thickened air. With a flick of his finger the ball rolled toward the base of one of the tree's and he let the weave dissipate. The small lump of matter that had once been straw nudge against the base of the tree and stopped.

Nodding to himself he began the weave again in front of him, once complete he began to pull at it's shape as before. It took less time before it began to take the form he wanted. Slowly the large flat space slipped into what appeared to be a long thin stick like shape with a broaden disk one foot back from it's lead end. Focusing his attention on another form he pushed his hand out, finger pointing toward the manikin and watched as the stick flew to it's target; impaling it at the base of the neck. The disk section hit the form and pushed back against the tree to hold it pinned there. Sweat beaded and began to flow down from brow and over his cheeks, but he offered it no notice. In the clarity of the void there was just himself and that voice, a presence without eyes that watched silently the mayhem he was learning. The thought sent a chill down his spine that served to spur him on further. He giggled slightly as he worked to pull the weave into a new form. Tried to keep the stick in place and pull the disk into a elongated blade in which to rent open the target from sternum to naval. But in his glee and fledgling skill the weaving slipped loose, threads unraveling. It dropped before he could catch the cause, to focused on what he wanted it to do rather then it's state. As the weave unraveled it exploded shearing tree and bush, straw and dirt flew into the air and raced toward him as he threw up and arm to protect himself. An instant before the debris hit it stopped inches from them and slipped to the ground. Looking over he noted the air shield his mentor had slipped around them and the stern look; a cold eye bore down on him. “I am sorry Isha. You said to try and I thought I could create something that appears still to complex for my skill set without added practice. I see that now. I will be more careful with the next. The air shield dissipated in front of them but his mentor's cold stare remained fixed as Linten turned back toward the field and the large crater left by his slip. Well at least now I know I can always let a weave collapse and rent the same effect if cornered; they will not take me.

~You're mad, let the weave dissipate? Never let it collapse! Fool, you're mad, mad I tell you.~

Indeed, I am not the bodiless one ranting in another mans head. Who is crazy? the voice stuttered at the insult but he ignored it's ravings as he focused once more on building out the weave that would make the shield. This time his tactic was different, he simply tipped the shield on edge horizontally. Rotating his finger in a circle the disk of air began to spin, slowly gaining speed until he was satisfied with it velocity. With a grunt he threw his hands forward as if to push something heavy. He disk whirled toward another group of straw forms, slicing off heads and toppling the tree behind it before he could release the weave and have it dissipate. A grin sat happily on his face as he turned back to Isha once more. “Is that what you were wanting Isha? Did I do it correctly?” He had to make sure the man thought him simply eager to prove himself to his mentor; to please the man who taught him. Knowledge was power and he would need all he could scrap from the man and any other's he could find if he was to succeed at his personal mission of vengeance against the witches of Tar Valon.

Linten

Mentee of Isha

Thirsty for Revenge

Always on her mind .... live without .... never have. If it was only so easy as that. “Why are women so complicated and yet so ... needed.” The thought made open to the world as a soft utterance lost in that thought. Quickly he tipped the bottle back to regain composure and focus; the liquid spreading warmth within him. “Have you ever tried to make sure you are on a woman's mind. It's hard enough as it is but when you can't even be near them or associate with them then you may as well sing a tree to grow sideways for all the luck you have. I mean really, how do you suggest a person be on someone's mind if they want nothing to do with you in the slightest?” A bold thought blazoned across his mind as the final words tumbled fro his mouth. A remembrance of a visit to the infirmary for his mentee. What if ... what if the tension in that hand was not over belief I had caused the issue? What if the tension was because she ... could she .... could she still really care what happened to the darkfriend that held her captive and threatened her with madness in isolation? The thought was to large, to stark in different to the reality he found himself in.

She had made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with him again; had kept to that original vow from what he had seen. Never sent for him since, never directly conversed or went out of her way to be anywhere he was. But still, a fragile thin glimmer of hope in the dark abyss of depression twinkled weakly and he latched on to it as a life line. Suppose she is still at the game; still playing a part, her part. Unable to reverse a decision made in haste; against her character. Quickly plans began to form in his mind as he contemplated the man across from him. Bit's and pieces kept, as each was discarded as unsuccessful or impractical. But the bits and pieces still offered hope if he could put them together in a cohesive plan. Now the question became how he could leverage Brand and his lady friend toward the end he sought.

Again the bottle went to his mouth as the gears in his head worked options, the dance once more in motion to the rhythm of his mind. “The problem with one is, I believe, under control for what is needed. Control being the balancing act we do daily with sword and step. But tell me this if you would Brand, what would draw the mind in a positive way while not drawing near in presence?” Corin leaned slightly forward as he eyed the man who had opened this discussion and set their feet on the path before them. Watched as he tipped the bottle back for a long drink.

Corin lay back against the roof welcoming it's support; willing it to give him what he needed. But answers would come from it no more then it would from the infinite stars above. A multitude of pinpricks, light on the creator's black canvas, filled the sky above him twinkling in there merriment. A visual representation of the opportunities and problems that faced him. He had made an agreement with Sirayn in the dark seclusion of the room beneath him. It seemed almost a distant memory now with all that had transpired since those words. There had been an opportunity then; dangled before him like a piece of cheese to a mouse before the trap. He had not known it as such; the mouse rarely knew it's fate. Only the incessant need for the cheese; for the knowledge and opportunity that might just some how lay in a game he was unprepared for. Had no fathom in regards to it's depths and nuances. A smile twitched the corners of his mouth as he thought of how easily she had laid out the bait. Simple words and gestures, common, nothing to draw the eye or prick attention from it's flow. She had lead him with ease into a commitment for which he still had not reasoned it's true meaning.

Corin admired her skills for what they where and how easily and smoothly she had applied them. But it galled him that even after so long a time he still did not truly know her intent. He had guesses and thoughts, neither of which bore fruit as yet. Worst of all some where in the game between them, her leading as he sought to find the mark, Corin had lost a part of him to her in a way he would not believe possible. How was it a woman of such greater age, with little shown compassion, and a great repulsion for human contact could wrap such a hold on his heart? Sirayn Sedai could be described in many ways, but gorgeous, even beautiful was not one of them. In fact frumpy or demure would probably be words closer suited for the average eye. Yet he saw something different in the shape of her cheek bones, the way she held her head, the stark contrast of her grey eyes and dark hair. He found a charm in that ageless face that he could only associate pretty to, though her cold preference for distance and lack of closeness fuzzed the edges. Why was it he would die for her if she asked it; offered it in the cabin though thank the light she refused him. Frustration over her had long since come and gone, he could not find a word to describe accurately how mixed up she had made him.

That of course was only one side of a very complex coin. The soft snap of a twig herald the arrival of a shadow to his isolation. Siting up slightly he watched as a figure appeared from the shadow of a path connecting the garden to the yard. The soft shimmer of moonlight raced along the green cloak and pulled at it's subtle color variations. At first his heart twitched, hope beginning anew that she might have come to discuss an end to this nightmare she had put him into. To finally allow him to kneel at her feet and offer life eternal to her protection and cause. How she had know he was here did not matter; just that she had come. But as the woman below turned toward the stack of crates red curls like wisps of soft cotton slipped into view from around the edges of the cloak's hood. Red the thought instantly brought only one picture to mind, Lavinya. A brief review of her stature and shape strengthened the thought, height alone dismissing Sirayn as the cloaks secreted prize. Disappointment and loss bit softly in but it's full measure was not felt; as if the blade was wrapped in a warm felt cloth to ease it's sting.

You seem to always find routes back to my most inner hiding places my friend. But can I still resist and hold you as a friend? I pray that I can for both of our sakes. The moon sat high in the sky at his back and bathed the new arrival in it's soft and subtle silvery glow when she resumed her steps. Moon rays swept over her upturned face; raced along soft smooth skin. The image below instantly put an itch in his hands to remember such warmth again. Visions of their first meeting played back in his head as her words floated up to him. Imagination continuing where remembrance left off as how much pleasure it could be to see her again. Heat blazed across his face; cheeks stained a deep red as the pictures of rapture played out in his head. It was indeed a great benefit that shadow held his face and kept the blush of thought from her sight; kept the heat that took hold of his eyes before control returned to an iron grasp and he forced the soft face of Sirayn back to the forefront.

What was the matter with him, he had better control of his mind then this. The soft sweet appearance as she lay asleep at the cabin, no separation, no judgment, no facade. Focused on the image and the remembrance of touching her face softly to cool the heat in his cheeks and ensure there was no indication of the previous thoughts left to twinge his voice. “Indeed Lavinya Sedai it is a beautiful evening and one certainly worth entertaining close friends who's beauty it matches.” The image faltered slightly in his mind as realization of his tongue's betrayal played back to him. Matched beauty ... are you insane. Is this the course of a man who wants to help? Help loose his head perhaps. Finger tips pressed hard into his thigh as he worked out the tension of his slip. This was just a meeting between two friends, nothing more. He could do this; keep their friendship alive without sacrificing what he knew to be destiny.

Softly he slipped from the roof to the ground before her and fought intensely with himself to resist the urge to collect her up in his arms right there. “It is good to see you under better circumstances. The last meeting was unfortunately tainted by the actions of my mentee.” He held his hands folded lightly behind his back allowing him to work the continued tension out in wiggled fingers. “I see you have taken up a new hobby”; he indicated toward the pipe, fingers brushing lightly across her hand. “I would not have guessed you a pipe person. But then you continue to surprise me,” a broad smile lite his face; his eyes captivated to hers for several long moments of silence before his mind shook him to action once more. It was not safe to stand here lost in her eyes, he could hold certain emotions at bay for only so long if left to her. Collecting her free hand he slipped it around his arm and stepped out with her on the path again, it's angle toward the Ogier grove. “Come let us not stand here waisting the light when we can walk through the wonder the creator has painted for us this night.” Be firm Corin, two friends out for a walk, nothing more.

Corin

Torn between two lives

Silence, normally welcome; he had trained in it's embrace often, enjoyed it's lack of sound in his room while he worked life's puzzles. But here and now the silence was equal to the sharpened edge of a sword. His whole being wanted to squirm and shift, to draw deeper under the covers and away from the penetrating gaze he knew she leveled at him. His stomach called out loudly again it's want of food and nourishment. He wanted to be anywhere at this moment then under that stare; the ice cold penetrating gaze that Sirayn used when she wanted to see through you, freeze you to the very core. He knew if he looked back, even for a brief moment to check, he would be lost to those slate eyes and the storm that brewed there. Instead he kept his focus on the ceiling, worked to keep the shaky grip he had on his body and his nerve. Of all the times for her to bring up Lavinya, why did she always seem to have the greatest opportunities handed to her on a silver platter? The woman's timing always seemed inconceivably perfect.

Seiaman's name filled his ears and cut through him like an ice cold winter wind through small clothes. It shattered the control he clung to desperately and scattered the pieces like cotton in a fall breeze. His eyes flicked back to her's with a will of there own. Only by sheer luck did he stop his eyebrows from climbing though his eyes did widen a fraction while he wrestled internally to find something solid to stand on. Again her timing was impeccable, and if it were not he under her scrutiny, Corin was sure he would be standing amazed as he tried to learn that timely and impressive trick. But he was at the center and there was no time to admire her work; he had to find a way to explain.

The truth, he could no more tell her the truth then he could sprout wings and fly away from this situation. He knew the women was bad news, knew that he had to keep her from Sirayn. But how could he possibly tell her that, what proof could he offer. A women who had been at her side for years, been the sword arm of protection and willingly offered her life in place of Sirayn's. She would believe him, a boy untried and fresh from the apron stings, over her previous Gaidin? Not bloody likely. Even if she had hurt her deeply; Corin still remembered his meeting with Sirayn that day in the grove after Seiaman had departed. Why is it you still care for her when I offer you my soul? No he had to find a plausible and believable reason for this; it was obvious that Sirayn Sedai was not about to let this one lie as it was. She would demand answers and one way or another he knew she would get them.

But that still left him with the decision of what would pass as plausibility while not pegging him to a hole? Silence had stretched out too long between them and the penetrating gaze that held him had not changed, but there was that tell tale tightening at the corner of her eyes. So small and slight that most would probably never notice the change. But he had spent every moment that he had been around her looking for something to read on her and finally found a measure, if slight, in her eyes. She was getting impatient which would not bode well for him. She knew his mind worked to form a solution to the puzzle she left him in; knew he was searching for a way out. She would only be all the more cautious with any story he fabricated. This would have to lie so close to truth that it would be as he had once heard some one refer to as the monster with two backs. They had been using it to describe the act of two people joining in intimacy, but it still fit in a way.

“A woman,” the words were out of his mouth before he could catch his tongue in soft reserved tones; the shake still slight in his voice. He had wanted close to the truth but how was he to dance this one now that it was out of the bag. It was over a women but he could never tell her it was over herself. Her hysterical laughter would have people worried she was going mad. Corin, a boy, fighting her ex-Gaidin, a proven soldier, in hopes of wining her over. The thing of fairy tales and stories, grow up boy, he could see the words falling from her mouth in between the bouts of laughter. No he could not approach that yet, not here. She had let slip what looked like concern earlier. But he could not risk everything on his weak ability to read her, he would find the right time and place but it was certainly not here in the busy infirmary. “You ... you see she seems to fancy a certain women that she believes me to be in play with so to speak.” In play with? What are you bloody thinking, as if that stunt in the garden with Lavinya Sedai has not gotten you in enough trouble already. “I mean I am of course not involved with anything save for my studies and duties to y ... to the teacher I presently work with.” The change was only slightly noticeable but it was hopefully beyond consideration of those passing by. He did not know how much of their teaching arrangement Sirayn Sedai had made public therefore he had to error on the side of discretion. Another tick against him, focus and control was still returning to him. It was almost back, would have been if his stomach did not keep interrupting his thoughts with it's vocal cry for food each time a tray passed by; it's deliciously enticing aroma's assaulting his nose and laying siege to his mind. Already he had begun following each with his eyes briefly as they passed. Another readable sign he should be able to control if he was to prove her teaching well placed. “But I think we have come to an agreement of sorts” the only agreement reached is that we each hate the other with increasing zeal.

The boy studdered before him helplessly under his icy watch; like a fish out of water on a hook he wiggled to find a way free. There would be no out, not again. He recognized the girl Dorian desperately tried to hide. Once again the seeming white dove had turned out to be a wolf and drew his mentee away from studies and into frivolous affairs of the heart. Why could the fool boy not seen there was no time for this kind of foolish behavior. He had to learn his lessons, lessons harder for him then many others in the yard because of his lack of sight. If he hoped to stay alive in this career path then he had to learn them well and with out distraction.

A venom he had not know before but his tongue found from the lashing he had taken under her slate cold stare edged his words, dripped sarcasm from them with heavy cords. His hand reached past the boy to collect the loose laces of his prizes gown. “I suppose these just magically undid them selves, or perhaps I am out of the loop and undone laces are the latest fashion craze.” he let the lace ends tap lightly at Dorian's shoulder while his eyes took in the downcast eyes of the girl. “I'm sure Faerzyne will be most interested to hear about this new fashion. I'm sure she will keep you for hours in discussion.” The girls eyes shot up at the mention of the Mistress of Novice, as did the sudden stiffening of his mentee.

Dorian's mouth opened, most likely to try and spare the girl her due fate. Before words could fall from it the back of Corin's hand slammed hard into his cheek spinning his head to the side and carrying his body off balance; the sound reverberating off the hard stone walls. “I did not tell you to speak. You will keep your trap shut until I address you or I will drag you out of here unconscious.” His voice was low; held the warmth of a winter frost as the boy straightened again, the girls hand on his elbow and concern on her face. “Waste no pity for him my dear, you will need it all for yourself I am sure. How is it both of you can not understand basic rules? Do you believe they are created solely for your amusement, for you to pick and chose which to follow and which to break? You,” his finger stabbed hard into the chest of Dorian. “How can you be of any use to the tower if you do not know your lessons, understand rules and discretion. Lives will be in your hands boy, I will not have them placed in the hands of an incompetent bafoon.” His voice never raised but the arctic front it carried remained in full as jade green eyes regarded them with no warmth. “Let's take a walk you too, it's time to pay for your indiscretion yet again.” He ignored the small trick of blood from the corner of Dorian's mouth as he gathered the two up; one on each side his grip tight on their arms.

It took little time before he had them before the Mistress of Novice's door. “You will stay there and remain quiet or she will get more, and you will listen to every wail from her mouth is that clear?” After the boy nodded he shoved him toward the wall and then tapped lightly on the door. After making his apologies to Faerzyne Sedai he explained the situation he had found and assured her that the boy would be dealt with sternly. He watched her carefully as she lifted the laces briefly and then cast her gaze to the boy. Securing her permission to depart with the boy and a promise he would be dealt with correctly the door closed off the girl from sight; a small shiver tried to race up his spine. He felt pity for the girl for a brief moment before the fire of anger was once more stoked; eyes falling on Dorian. “You and I have a date boy, one you will remember.”

His gave the boy a quick shove in front of him and escorted him out of the tower; a prisoner on the long walk to the gallows. Only Dorian's fate would not be so quick. As they stepped back out side Corin pulled him up short. Now heat twinged his voice, no one was near to hear the slip of emotion. “I have had enough of this from you. You will learn your lesson one way or another I assure you. You know where to meet me and I better not be there by myself for long. When you arrive you will have everything you deem of value with you. Everything do you understand? If I think you left anything in your room I will have it taken out and destroyed while you watch. Do not test me now boy, you will loose.” With that he turned and headed to the store masters quarters for some supplies he would need for this lesson, then it was off to the track again to see how his target of frustration had made out.

Something here is not right, I doubt that is just a run of the mill headache; where is the smile and ironic humor you had before you abandoned me Isha?

~Did he not offer to bring you back? Did you not decide to stay? What of those woods and your hunting? Have you forgotten so soon?~

Laughter cackled in the back of his mind as he studied Isha from the corner of his vision. It discerned him that Isha seemed to be only a shell of the man he had know. The man had placed a great deal of value in life and self worth back then. This shadow next to him seemed at odds with that picture, viewed life in a more twisted and hard reality from what Linten had seen so far. Perhaps he had been right in his earlier thoughts before Isha had tried to change them. Perhaps the new hunt he found himself longing for was the right path after all. He doubted his mentor, with his present views, would hinder that goal if he were to confide in the man. But the thirst for vengeance was far greater then the risk to confide it.

~So quickly you forget how it felt to be hunted; to hear them searching for you. So close you could smell them.~

Shut up!!

~To know if she was to simply turn around and stretch out her hand she could have closed it's delicate fingers around your neck.~

I said shut up .... go back to the hell you came from I don't need you anymore!

~What will he do when you tell him? If he tries to stop you will you spill his blood as well? Could you?~

Linten could not answer the voice; was afraid what the answer my be if he truly took the time to seek it. Instead his eyes swept to the space in front of Isha and he watched intently at the weave being formed before him. The way the threads of air slipped together and packed tighter and tighter. A shield, this would be a very handy weave for the quest he had placed himself on. Carefully each thread's position burned into his memory. I will find you witch, I will find you and you will beg for me not to carve the source from you and leave you like chaff on the threshing room floor. I will find you.

That strange little feeling that had help keep him alive while he had been estranged from the Black Tower washed over him and his eyes flicked up to find Isha studying him. The thirst had faded reality from mind play again. Quickly a smile replaced the snarl that had set to his face, “sorry mentor, I was studying the weave so much I missed what you said. Strengthen with Spirit?” When Isha nodded Linten relaxed the tension in his shoulders slightly and turned back toward the field of manikins.

~He knows. He knows and he is watching. Are you sure you can face him if the wheel wills it?~

A low growl escaped his throat softly as he forced the flame into the center of his mind and drew the void around him. Stretching out an invisible hand he reached out to the orb without hesitation and seized Saidin with force. Felt the rush of sweet power and ecstasy sweep through him. Each strand of straw in the closer manikins drew a new level of clarity; Isha's steady breathing echoed in his head as his senses became sharper. Then the taint, the acidic stench that scoured another layer from his bones and tried to force the contents from his stomach. The wave was stronger then before, each time seemed to be. But it passed and the blur that had hazed his vision briefly slipped from existence. Saidin pulsed in his control and begged for him to draw further from it's sweet drink. Pulling out a thick thread of air he began to follow the weave Isha had formed, interlaced it with spirit to add more strength to it as Isha had allowed. The weave was slow and time consuming as it was with all new weaves. But this one would earn special practice in quiet hours; he would know this weave intimately before long. Slowly the thickened air began to spread in front of him as he continued to add to the weave. Once he had it large enough to cover the space in front of him he turned his attention back to Isha but maintained the weave and a solid hold of Saidin. This was the true feeling of life; filled with Saidin everything seemed more, seemed better.

OOC: OP is as follows Air 5, Spirit 8, Water 5, Fire 7, Earth 5.

Nothing, no flash of light, no mystical smoke or wavering of the air spoke of the work the Yellows did as they leaned over the bed holding the still and pale body of Dorian; his mentee, his responsibility. He knew from his time here that only another sister could see the things they did with the One Power; see the weaves as they put it. But still it would be so much more reassuring if there was something that Corin could see from across the room. He pushed aside one of the white clad girls again to see if he could note a change in the raspy breathing that had been rattling from the boy's body, but the crowd about him kept that need unfed.

Sudden pressure, as he was pushed back into a chair, barely registered and he swept an hand toward that grasp as if to dislodge the annoyance; to remove the child's hand and send her away with a scathing comment. Something worthy of the great Sirayn Sedai herself. His eyes only then met the face of that attached hand and all thought froze as the very vision in his mind became flesh before him. She slipped behind him, slipped from his view as shock still held him momentarily. Shock broken by the shudder of Dorian's body on the bed. Every fiber in his body redoubled it's tension and if not for the steady unwaivering pressure on his shoulder from the small delicate hand there he would have been in full flight to the boy's side.

“Nothing, I .... I was walking back to my barrack room. It was dark and raining, miserable weather like before when ... Was relieved of duty and as I crossed the yard I heard it beneath the storms anger.” His disjointed words had been in soft quiet tones, as if absent of though or concern. But as he continued an urgency wrapped around those words, voice became stronger; worry laced in thick cords. “Blades dancing. But not the dance of training edges, these had an urgent desire for blood. I called out as I ran to investigate but the storm swallowed my alert in it's cruel rumblings and left me to watch in horror as they drew the edge across his throat. If only I could have moved faster; heard sharper.” A dagger slipped from his sleeve and bobbed in a hand as he continued. “I think I hit the one with a dagger as he slipped into the tree line but I'm not sure. Just had to get the boy back here .... just had to.”

By now he was leaning forward intently trying to see the boy in the bed even under the pressure she used to keep him in the chair. Dorian had to make it, he was not going to loose a trainee. The boy may die in battle, but not until he was raised from Corin's care. There has to be a way, he has to survive. Deep down two emotions battled at odds with each other under the shadow of his concern for the boy. Elation; she was here, near him. He could feel the warmth of her hand; wanted to surrender to it, dissolve into that simple touch. Tell her how much he missed her presence, how sorry he was about the cabin, about everything. Despise; how could he fall apart like this in front of her. Why now while he was at a lost to emotion did she show up? How could he ever regain her acceptance like this; a pitiful whelp devoid of strength and common reason. The game player she had built in him had dissolved when he had placed the boy in the care of the yellows, when his part was done and all he could do is standby helplessly and watch others; wait for those dark and unfeeling words that would herald his passing. He needed to be strong, had always wanted to help those who could not help themselves. Perhaps that was what caused this confusion in him over the boys fate. Surely that was why this boy's well fair seemed to hold such meaning to him. His blindness had made him seem helpless, this only seemed to reinforce it. But the boy was bound to the tower and in that duty a binding to death, a common fate for those in service.

Twisting his eyes locked on Sirayn and for the first time in public since he had ever known her he wore no mask, held no guard over his eyes or emotions; the only other time was in the privateness of the cabin. “Please Sirayn, please you have to help him. I beg you. Please save him, it is not his time to die.” Pleading eyes stared up at her; his hand closed over hers were it clenched his shoulder, desperation in the touch as the game player inside scorned his weakness. How can you serve and protect an Aes Sedai when you can not even protect a simple trainee in the safety of the tower. Pitiful .... she will never accept you ... she will never find feelings beyond revolt. A shiver raced through his still form as the coldness of the thought seemed to leech into his bones; become one with the marrow. Never

The intent in Brand's eyes and the smile that sat easily on his face set well into Corin's mind that there would be no easy way out of this conversation. Until the man was thoroughly satisfied he had solved the problem facing the younger guard before him he would not relent. Corin drew deeply on the bottle in hand as Brand eased back into his chair; drew deeply until the memories of the meeting several weeks ago with Aran found life in his stomach. A brief sensation of nausea swept his mind before he crushed it to the back.

He had tried foolishly to face a certain blade master of scorn thinking he could match wood with her and had paid for it; both by her hand and by Sirayn's later in the infirmary. Now he was beginning down that same false hope road with Brand. The man was the Grand Master of his path, what did he foolishly hope to gain by trying to match tactics. Still, the only way to grow and prove one's self was to challenge those above. But in pieces and small bits that remained manageable. It seemed a simple, slight of words and change in direction would not suffice to ease the need of his Commander to fix Corin's life. So a different plan was needed ...

“A relation problem if you really must know,” his voice twinged with dejection. “It seems that which I wish to talk to in view of closeness I can not, and that which I wish to talk to in view of friendship and not closeness I also can not.” Drawing another short sip from the distraction in his hand allowed him to focus the path he would try to walk. Avoiding the eyes of the other man he let his focus rest on the hypnotic dance of the flames in the fireplace as they licked at the wood. “So readily could I find warmth with one. Had she been first to the mark I would have fallen beyond recovery to her ... into her eyes. But alas it was another that holds the strings of the heart, a distant one who is only seen in memories now. How does one resist the temptation of heat and offered companionship only to stand in the cold with bare a memory to comfort the soul?” His voice trailed off with the question as brown and grey eyes once more met across the distance in his mind and battered at his soul. It was time to dance once more, only this time he had to be the meek and accepting guard saved by his great and illustrious Commander.

Why is it you haunt me Lavinya. I should be able to resist your charms and the tender touch of your hand, yet it confuses me and brings doubt to my purpose with you dear Sirayn.

OOC: with the error that happened resulting in missing posts this is a continuation of the same titled thread that was just starting.

Life had it's ironic way of kicking a man when he was down. At least that was Corin's view on it; more so when he was unexpectedly met at shift change by the Commander himself. Corin had made sure over the past few weeks that he was like clockwork for his shifts. Never changed one, always was early and made sure a smile was plastered to his face when others where around. The facade was perfect he thought until the invitation in person arrived. Even as he tried to state reasons why he could not meet Brand for drinks he found himself bundled along by the Commander and in short order in front of a warm fireplace with a bottle in hand facing the man he had hoped believed everything corrected. Corin respected a Commander that took a personal interest in the well being of his men, it spoke highly of his character. He just was not fond of the interest being put in himself; especially in regards to the problem he was desperately trying to find a solution to.

“I have been doing well Commander, really I hope I have not missed something. I have ensured that duty has been returned to the forefront again.” Even if the duty is not what you believe it to be, I know in my heart that is where my duty lies. The mind was a funny thing how it completed unspoken truths and always brought light to the darkest of thoughts and lies. It was truly a good thing that Aes Sedai could not read the minds of men. “Um ... as for the .. personal matter it is ... I mean ... I'm working on it still.” He voice was slightly hesitant and he mentally cursed himself. She had taught him better; scorn his weakness if she was here to witness it. Firming his voice and taking on the tone and appearance of the steady man he had been, he tipped back the bottle briefly before continuing. “I assure you Commander the issue I have will not effect my duties and loyalties to the Tower and the guard. Certain things of delicacy need longer windows of time to be properly dealt with. But that being the case I will not allow it to effect my duties.” I will find a way to bridge that chasm created by mine hand. I will ensure her safety somehow, that is my duty. A vow spoken in the darkness that same night as their first meeting played through his head but no indication touched his outward appearance.

“I thank-you for asking Commander but assure you I have all well in hand so you mustn't worry over it. You have far more important concerns I'm sure. If there is anyway I can help please do not hesitate to ask. Between wall duties and the mentee's in my care I still have a little time now and then to assist others.” His smile was warm and natural in every aspect, diversion; change the focus to the left hand when you wanted to hid the right. More of his path training that had interwoven into his character.

It took only moments for a collection to begin; felt like a life time of agony searching the bed's and maze of curtains for a sister. But they came, in a flow of white that seemed to materialize about him. Girls in white gowns, be them novice or accepted he didn't take the time to notice, the Aes Sedai slipping from behind a white curtain in a smooth floating motion was were darting eyes finally fell. Her face was fixed with a vexed expression; words already on her lips. No doubt she meant to inquire about the nature of his irrational hollering in her infirmary. But as she turned and her eyes fell on the bloodied mess standing before her, her expression simply folded into one of concern and study.

“You have to help him Aes Sedai, in the front, please, quickly. He needs your help.” He shook off one of the girls who had arrived at his side already checking him as if the blood was his own. “Off me girl I am fine, it's the boy who needs care.” He watched as the sister floated passed him with a sidelong look and then swiftly swept out toward the entrance; her dress lifted slightly to avoid the mix of water and blood that had dripped from him making small pools on the floor. Corin attempted to follow, pushed several white clad girls aside. But was only successful in making the room he had left Dorian in and no further. “You will do as you are told guard.” Her voice was simple; if it was not exactly pleasant it could not be said to be angry either. The Aes Sedai never turned from her study of the pale boy before her yet her finger seemed to add all the emphasis that was needed. “Listen to the girls and do as you are told. I will speak with you after.”

Summarily dismissed she returned to the work before her as Corin was swept to the side by now a pair of the white clad girls. Watched around and between heads in the direction of the bed he had placed Dorian in as they began to poke and prod at him. “What, no I'm fine. It's the boy, he needs .... yes what ever I need to know ... No I told you it's his blood.” They had begun to strip the red stained coat and shirt from his torso as they continued their inspection; his eyes still trying to make out what was happening with the boy. “What ... what do you mean cut?” he looked down to see a gash along his upper arm. “I must have cut it on one of the weapons of the others while I was trying to pull Dorian free.”

Rain lashed the leaded glass in disjointed time; echoed it's anger on the roof above as Corin sat in earnest study at the small desk adorning the simple room that had been what some would call home. Simple in it's design and decor like the man who occupied it, at least he had been at one time. Rising from the desk briefly he collected the pitcher of water tipping a portion of it's contents into the small clay pot that adorned the opposite corner. The tree had been carefully selected as a seedling, and since that time he had pruned and nurtured it with great care. Tenderly he plucked new grow buds from the ends of a couple branches; adjusted the thin strip of shave lead that held another in place; shaped as he imagined it's future was to be. Many symbolisms adorned his quarters if one had the eye and mine to see what was truly there.

The tree had been collected from the vary woods that hide the cabin, a dry and brittle needle removed with an a skewed look of apprehension for the tree's health; she would remain healthy. Thoughts drifted back to him as the weather outside echoed his frustration. Simple things, simple purpose. His parents had been simple folk and raised him as such; respect for authority, strength to help those unable to help themselves, dedication to family, and to cherish love. Water ran in rivers down the window, across the image of a face he sometimes no longer recognized. The reflection that returned to his eyes often was one of a troubled and purposeful man, he could almost hear what his mother would say if she too were to see him of late. “What has become of my boy who was so full of life when he left us? Where is that boy now?” She would not understand, Corin did not understand how could he expect her to.

His mind played out events since his arrival to Tar Valon, searched to find where the course had run a ground, the turn that had taken him to this point. Something his mind had done often since their separation at the cabin. A broken mirror reflecting pieces and shapes; whole in there individuality but still a part of a larger and complete picture. Still it's logic eluded him, left him in a constant field of questions, and assumptions; perhapses and what ifs. Reikan had such clarity to his teaching, simple mannerisms and readily defined lines to guide and build on. He had know exactly what was expected of him and where the boundaries lie. Discipline and dedication had been ingrained in him from childhood, but his old mentor had taken that knowledge and polished it to a rich luster, it was more then second nature to him. It had become him in every way ... almost every way, had been until that night not unlike this one. She had succeeded in taking that innocence and dedication and bent it to a new form. Like a smithy at the bellows, her hammer had rung out on the raw piece she had placed on her anvil.

It was that project that now looked back into his soul, the leaded glass reflected back the blank yet purposeful expression that had become him. Imperfections in the glass distorted the reflection, rivulets of water down the pain furthered the distortion, carved insidious furrows across his face but it was him. The new creation she had forged and crafted for a purpose he no longer was sure existed. How long had it been since he had truly laughed? He remembered times with genuine friends; Rosheen and Orion. Had he also pushed them away on this pursuit? He was not certain anymore, they had all changed. But the separation, was that him or just the requirements of the oaths they had taken? She had carefully, slowly isolated him from them; build a guarded distance around him that questioned everyone's motives; honed suspicion to a fine edge. Why can she not be like Reikan? With boundaries and distinct lines he would know his place, know how to become for her what he knew was there.

He had followed her in search of a new knowledge, a skill that would aid him in not having to spill blood; or so he had thought. That was not your true intent now was it? A steady finger traced the line of his jaw, pondered on the true intent that had been there in the beginning. He could still of course play that card. It would be difficult but she had trained him well enough to dance that step if it was required. But that was no longer the direction the arrow was aimed. Somehow in his quite and purposeful journey she had subtly changed the game, placed a new target in front of him and set the course with out him realizing her hand at work until he had fallen far to deep to escape.

Returning to the desk he shuffled through the few papers stacked there. No where near the quantity of reports and observations she received. But the couple he got from old acquaintances and new were all he had to go on; at least they offered him a small and trivial glimpse at what her movements were. He was still not sure how effective Faile was. She gave him eyes in the tower were he may not be able to go, but she was also limited in her exposure to Sirayn. To try and force her further would only end with mistakes or worse. He was in enough hot water already without it becoming common knowledge that he was blackmailing a novice. If she despised him now for the misunderstanding of there private meeting then she would publicly have his hide with vengeance if she knew he had blackmailed one of the towers precious children. What is it you want of her? the question was so simple in form, but to answer it he would have to admit something he was trying to keep safely buried; protected from the outside world least the shadow find leverage in it's knowledge against her.

The Commander had glimpsed at its shape and purpose; had put enough pieces together to see a pattern even if the picture was not clear enough to name the face. That meeting had brought out right panic at first when he thought he may be forced into a choice of revealing Sirayn or leaving the Tower service forever. She would have nothing to do with him beyond requirements and still he defended their agreement; held close their secrets. Looking back at the tree on his desk, a reminder of his over zealous plans, memories of how soft her face had looked that day in the cabin as slumber still held her. “Why are our threads so tied together and yet the world may as well be between us for the closeness we share. I would do anything for you Sirayn. Why will you not see that?” His closed hand smacked against the stone wall; head bowing to lean against the cool surface of the glass.

It took long moments wallowing in self pity before he regained his composure and straighted from the comfort of the cool glass. Even as he went about straightening his clothes and ensuring certain documents we safely stowed away or destroyed he knew where he would end up. The armory had pulled him almost every night since his meetings with the Commander. It was there were this journey, what should be his future, began. It was wear he could most feel her presence when he was quiet and still. Slipping on the dark oiled cloak he quickly stepped out into the embrace of the storm as if returning to a friend and began the journey again.

The crack; disjointed light illuminating everything in brilliance for the span of a heart beat and then plunging it back into even deeper darkness. The storms fury only painted further emotion to the picture in his head; a picture of betrayal and hurt. He had driven this chasm between them and now she rightfully would rather he be dead then of this world. No! No there is a way, must go back to the beginning and find that way. The warmth of the armory would help to slow the mind, the familiar rattle of steel and wood would focus thoughts. If he could not physically be in her presence then what the mind offered would do.

No one should have been out in weather as it was, most safely wrapped in the warmth and security of their rooms or the Tower proper. Only guards manning the wall and on patrol; even those he did not expect to bump into. So his thoughts and attention were turned in deeply as the small form materialized out of the darkness before him; drenched in the nights offering of rain. Even in startlement, recognition was quick, indecision it's married partner. She was before him once more, could almost reach out and touch her; wanted to, to prove she was real and not a figment of mind and mist.

Timing had him bent well into a bow when realization of the picture before him registered and froze him; confusion sat openly on his face as he took in her familiar features. Her normally demure size seemed to be hunched lower as if to disappear in the veil of black surrounding them. Fair complexion seemed paler, a look of almost ... No, no it can not be. He wanted to rub his eyes, clear the distorted image before him. Her hand clasped abnormally tight to the shawl as if it hide her from sight. Unable to let it go for ... fear, it was the only description Corin's mind could place on the strong and fierce woman before him; had normally been. Fear, an emotion he would never associate to Sirayn Sedai yet he could depict her no other way at the moment. His mouth clicked shut as realization burst to life in him at the gawking expression he must be wearing. But that also brought a new and growing emotion. Protect! From deep within where a purpose lay dormant, life sparked; hand itched to touch hilt, to draw forth a dagger. The guard in him wanted to be in motion; eyes should be scanning, he should be moving her to a safer more defend able location. It beat to get out from under a stronger emotion; he needed to reach out and touch her. To prove she was indeed flesh and blood and bone before him.

“Sirayn?” bewilderment laced his voice as her name slipped matching his expression in it's betrayal of the confusion that gripped him. Sparked the mind into remembered actions; a separated mask once more slipped into place. He tried to force himself into the rest of the bow, eyes to search the surrounding. It was all for not as jade green locked on to slate gray in a deep and penetrating gaze.

The rag tag group was less then he had expected. It seemed not many felt strong enough to take natures challenge head on and concur it. In a way the thought was slightly disturbing, how many will face the harshness of battle when it counts? But these were recruits; all at various levels of their training. He could not fault anyone for their own choices, but these one's had already gained a healthy amount of his approval.

“Embrace the weather that heralds your departure it will be with you for awhile,” his voice was strong as he bellowed out to the small group; the wind trying to steal his words before they could hear them. “You are here to learn to survive in this, it is our responsibility to ensure you return here alive; his hand motioned to Shawn. If you have a pulse when your sorry carcass is brought back here then we have fulfilled our requirements. But for you to fulfill your's you will need to work together and learn together. Everyone comes back, how you come back will depend on how well you learn and work together. We will be leaving by boat; take the time to get to know one another. Your life will depend on it.” He took a moment to look over each member standing before him; to study their eyes with intensity as he spoke. They needed to know he was serious about all of this, what they had signed up for could very well be their last tour.

“Shawn! Let's get this rag a muffin group on the move shall we.” He glanced briefly at the man who had once been his mentee. He had earned a strong role in the guard, to a degree this was Corin's way to check on and old pupils progress and if he had come into his own for command. Only the Commander could give a rank of true command to another guard. But still Corin felt each pupil he taught reflected back on his teacher. It was always good to know how you might be represented. Nodding to the other man he watched as he moved the group out toward the gate and the harbor beyond. It was time they caught a boat.

The ball careened off his knee, bouncing to the side as Corin looked back at Shawn incredulously. “Indeed, you have improved in this game Shawn, other then your apparent lack of aim. Perhaps you need to spend more time on the bow.” The large grin on his face told Shawn he accepted the apology in the good natured fun it was intended and knew how to return the ribbing. “Yes I suppose a cool down drink would be a welcome event, you are welcome to join us Moridin. But I choose the place, after all I'm the cripple now,” he chuckled heartily.

It was only a short jaunt to his favorite place and a chance to tease Savannah again. A past time he still enjoyed every chance he got since Orion had introduced him. Well he hadn't exactly introduced him but had been the first to bring him to this particular Inn. Settling down to a table in the corner and a quick wink at Savannah he turned his attention back to Shawn as they waited for the ale he knew the redhead would bring.

“So tell me Shawn, how do you find it on this side of the fence now; working to train your own mentee?” It was the first time he had to sit and talk with the man since his raising party. A chance to catch up was always a good thing. Friends where important in their field, help to keep a person grounded and in touch. Besides it help to keep his mind preoccupied on things other then Sirayn.

OOC: no problem ... sounds like fun. :)