Estel

Posted: Mon Jun 04, 2007

 

Isha looked over the gear he had packed for what must have been the tenth time that morning.  Apprehension, an emotion foreign to pre-Aginor Isha but now an old friend, clouded his thoughts.  This had seemed like such an excellent idea when he had presented it before Covai.  Here, now, with less than an hour before they should be leaving, doubts plagued Isha’s mind.

 

Ged occupied little of the giant’s thoughts.  He knew the boy vaguely, a former friend of his mentee, Noy.  Whatever had happened there remained unknown to Isha as he had been rather preoccupied with recovering from his injuries.  Linten, on the other hand, caused a whole sea of concerns.  The grizzled Shienaran might be missing an eye but he wasn’t so blind that he could see his “beloved” mentee’s troubled state.  Light, Isha had had to protect himself multiple times during their last class.  In the Blight, how was he supposed to keep Linten under control without risking all their safeties?

 

The Blight… the name made most men cringe in fear or else laugh in disbelief.  In truth, the place was a forest of rot, crawling with the horrible creatures of the late-Aginor’s invention.  At least that blight on the world was gone but The Blight remained and unless a way was found to throw it back, it would keep on advancing until Tar Valon stood as the world’s only fortress against its corruption.

 

Isha, like thousands of Borderlanders before him, had spent years in the Blight, battling the Trolloc fists and worse such creatures to be found there.  As a man who could channel, he was in possession of enough power to do the damage of a patrol single-handedly.  However, this was based on training and experience.  Something the two coming with him were about to have and earn.

 

With the sun just beginning to peak over the canopy of the Braem Wood, Isha held the bridle of his warhorse, Vengeance, both in full armour.  His saddlebags were full as were those of the two other warhorses, picketed out of reach of Vengeance.  He had borrowed the other two mounts from the Tower’s stables as he did not trust the two Dedicateds’ horses not to balk if they used the Power or caught their first scent of Shadowspan.

 

Standing just outside of the picket around the Travelling Grounds, the big man swung up on his saddle as he noted two figures slowly moving through the shadows towards him.  By the faint clinking sound he heard at a distance, they were in full armour as he had instructed and appeared to be struggling with enormous packs, the twin of which hung easily on Isha’s inhumanly broad shoulders.

 

Standing in his stirrups, on a horse that had taken him years to find because of the unusual size he needed, the Attack Leader stood nearly as tall as an Ogier he had once known a long time back, in the days before the Black Tower, the Dragon Reborn and saidin.  His grey stallion pawed the ground as they approached, saluting.

 

“Good morning, boys.” Isha replied in something between a good-natured greeting and a growl.  “I hope you are ready for some hard riding and days of exhaustion.  We’ll be spending the next week in an intensive battle weaves and survival course in the Blight itself.  Any questions?”

 

 

Faile1986

Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2007

 

Isha had made them pack early and plenty. Well, more than plenty. Are we supposed to carry stuff for an entire battalion? Ged sighed as realization dawned to him when he saw Isha mounted on his gigantic warhorse, a creature making him feel even more minute in front of the giant than usual. He knew the Asha’man didn’t wait for any more company. It was the three of them and that was it. Worst of all, it wasn’t only just him, the giant and someone else, just another Dedicated unfamiliar to him, but the early encounter with his “comrade” had made his hopes sink even more.

 

“Light, everyone but him”, he muttered under his breath, yet his eye met his without letting any emotion show. His grip on the Void was firm, but his resolve not to let his contempt for the other one show was even stronger. He had fought with him before. With and against him, yet it didn’t really make a difference. If you had Linten Dracain next to you, you never knew if it what the Dedicated was up to next. With him, it was much more likely to be killed by the other Dedicated than by whatever foe they were supposed to fight. No, there certainly wasn’t anyone who was more unpredictably dangerous than the fair-haired Dedicated trotting next to him, making his salutations to their superior just before he gave them the shortest of all overviews about his plans for the next week.

 

“I hope you are ready for some hard riding and days of exhaustion. We’ll be spending the next week in an intensive battle weaves and survival course in the Blight itself. Any questions?”

 

Ged felt a humourless giggle threat to rise in his throat, frantically trying to keep control of his features, facing Isha calmly and at least somewhat prepared fort he madness the man had just revealed to them. He wanted to take them to the Blight? Ged had to swallow hard as images of what they had been told would face them there emerged inside his mind. A glance at Linten told him, the other one wasn’t dealing much better with the news though his reaction was somewhat…unusual just as everything about him and Ged didn’t know if he liked it at all. Honestly he didn’t like this entire situation one bit.

 

Of course they had always been told that their training was meant to prepare them for the encounter with the Shadowspawn in the Blight and yet he realized how little they actually knew about what would face them there. If he had questions? Oh a thousand and more, but what good would they do him? He had some vague imagination what awaited them there and all he could do was move to his horse and mounting mechanically, he looked at Isha, hearing himself say. “No, I’m ready to go, Sir.” His voice sounded alien even to him and for a moment the notion of his inner Voice taking over his body seemed rather appealing. Maybe he was mad already, but he surely wasn’t ready for this yet.

 

“You have to be. Now or never.” A hissed command echoing inside his mind and yet he didn’t even bother shooing the Voice away. It didn’t matter too much right now. Maybe he was just glad for some company that wasn’t as mad as the two that were with him physically. Maybe even the most insane advice would be the one keeping him alive. Maybe. Light, he didn’t like this one bit.

 

 

Tismeb4u

Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2007

 

Sleep. It had taken time in his return but eventually it came back to him; romanced him as it had. Precious sleep had become his friend again and he enjoyed it's company. The refreshed feeling it offered him in the morning and the chance for his mind to slow a little. But Sleep evaded him throughout this night. His mind at constant turmoil with visions of remembrance. Remembrance of a time apart from the tower, apart from Isha, apart from protection and safety. These oddities had come infrequently at first. But with each new version they became more prevalent. Not so much that they interrupted sleep. More a change or a difference in the dreams themselves. It was these differences, not the content that troubled him. More and more he was noticing a different feel to them. Certain parts became more clear and vivid to his memory on waking. His eyes fell once more on the heavy pack occupying the floor and the old arguments of the night returning. Isha would not leave him this time, He would not abandon him to the shadows armies. Packs of supplies were prepared, armour and horses would be included. He would not leave him to his death. Not this time.

 

~Are you so sure? A relaxed victim is always the easiest to subdue. You know that from the blood on your own hands.

 

Shut up. He will not leave me. I can trust him, he is my friend. You! You only seek to drive me mad, to take control of this place. I will not surrender to you, I will not be the voice, will not be mad.

 

~But you talk to no one, argue with nothing. How can you say you are not mad?~

 

Linten cringed from the truth spoken by the ramblings in his head. Why must he be cursed to this? Regardless of what happened, Isha would not abandon him. He was sure of it .... almost. A training exercise. A chance to become even more intimately in tune with the weaves of death and destruction. Weaves he would need when the time was right to set the witches to their place. Teach them how to kneel at the foot of men and follow. The other problem with the trip was bound to the addition of the party.

 

Ged it seemed would be joining them for the trip to the blight. The man was wrong, smelled wrong. He had given up, yet still fought which puzzled Linten; a puzzle he did not like. At first he thought perhaps that the man would be a good move to the correct side of the fence he was creating in the Black Tower. But now it seemed better off if the man was perhaps assisted in his original goal of giving up. A solution that might just come to fruition on this trip. If Isha were perhaps distracted enough with the twisted shapes of the blight then perhaps he could arrange a small accident for the man.

 

~And they call me the mad one. My dreams are not the strange ones. I am not the one plotting to kill two of my own.~

 

Accusations from the bodiless accuser hit hard at his resolve causing a brief shudder to race through him. Perhaps the taint was taking a greater hold then he thought. He worked hard and often in Saidin's caress, knowing he would need to know it better then life itself if he were to survive to The Great Battle. Summoning the void helped put some of the plotting and off sense of his dreams in the distance as he hoisted the unyielding pack over armoured shoulder. He still could not understand how the giant Shienarian could move in this stuff. The heavy armour might protect against a blow, but it hindered attack and defence as well. He would take movement and Saidin over the heavy plate that Isha had made them dawn.

 

The walk to the Traveling grounds offered little in the way of reprieve. Almost the instant he stepped out he had Ged at his shoulder; the urge to strike his smug face more then once beat at the smooth surface of the void. Restraint was the order of this trip if he had any hope of not alienating Isha. Some how he would find away to deal with Ged, he knew that, the only question that remained was how. With death, separation, agreement? Which result would bubble to the surface in the end.

 

Isha towered even more over all as he sat the enormous warhorse; its spirit questioning the actual sanity of the beast. His mentor's greeting only affirming the fact they would once more be heading to the land that Light had turned its back on. Once more he would be subject to those twisted horrors; But would he be good to his word? Would Isha remain there and not abandon him again? He knew the traveling weave now, knew he could get away if the need required it. But could he trust the man that once was like a father figure to him? “Just don't leave me,” the whispered plea cracked in his ears barely audible as he passed Isha and clamoured on to the back of the horse that had been selected for him. Worry about his mentor faded slightly as he was forced to draw in hard on the reins; the horse beneath skittering away as he worked to sit the saddle.

 

It took a little coaxing and an unspoken threat to turn the wretched beast into hamburger but eventually it settled and Linten moved into position behind Isha, with Ged once more at his shoulder. It was going to be a long outing. “I stand ready for the lessons my mentor.” His face remained void of emotion and his voice empty thanks in part to the void as he watched the big man survey the small party and then turn to the grounds to create the weave that would return him to the nightmares.

 

 

Estel

Posted: Wed Jun 20, 2007

 

“Just don't leave me.”

 

Isha shut his eye against the overwhelming waves of guilt crashing over him.  He clenched his jaw to keep tears from running down his scarred cheeks.  “I won’t make that mistake again, Linten.”  Using his knees, Isha nudged his horse up beside the boy who had become his son.  Clasping the armoured shoulder, he would have squeezed it for emphasis but even his grip couldn’t bend steel.  “Never again.  Whatever happens out there, my death before yours and I’ll leave you a Gateway if I can.  If I go down, you two get out of there and Travel back.  If you aren’t strong enough for the Weave, get yourselves back to Fal Dara and send word to the Tower.  They should have pigeons to Caemlyn at least if they don’t already have ones for the Farm.

 

“The first thing I’ll be teaching you is to evade pursuit in the Blight.  Let’s go.”  With that, Isha seized saidin, swaying momentarily in his saddle as a wave of dizziness tried to throw him to the ground, and wove the necessary flows that opened a portal to north Shienar.  Isha was careful to avoid his father’s grave for fear of returning Linten and himself to a year or so before in that same place.  This was no time to deal with old problems.

 

“It’s probably easiest to teach you two a few key Weaves here already.”  The Blight loomed in the distance, imposing and forbidding.  ~You’re taking two untrained boys into that mess?  Light, even a one of the Hundred wouldn’t have gone into that alone let alone to train others!~

 

‘This isn’t the Age of Legends, Abrem’

 

~How is that supposed to make a difference?~

 

‘We don’t have the time to train these boys like you had.  We can’t afford to coddle them’

 

~Seems to me you can’t afford to lose them either~

 

‘I can keep them save’

 

~Just like you kept Linten safe last time~

 

‘Don’t try and bring that up’

 

~You don’t have an answer for it~

 

Isha squashed the long-deceased composer’s Voice.  Like with so many other occasions, the grizzled veteran didn’t have an answer for the Figment of his Imagination’s questions and so ignored them and hid from them, refusing to face up to the fact that It was right.

 

“You know Earth and Fire are strongest in male channellers.  Walls can be built from either Element and provide a formidable barrier for your foe.  However, Earth is usually the easier Element to control in the Blight as it had no chance of catching onto dead vegetation and running out of control until you are surrounded by your own fire and begin choking on the smoke.  In earlier lessons, you should have been taught the Caltrops Weaves where one brings spikes out of the ground.  This is useful if you have enough strength in Earth and can impale the first ranks of your foes.  However, this is risky as to impale enemies upon the spikes, you must bring the Weave into life from underneath them and if you cannot Weave fast enough, you will miss some of your enemies.  So, under the conditions that one needs to escape all of one’s enemies, a simple Wall is easier and more efficient.  It requires less concentration and Skill than the Caltrops but more Strength as you are creating a solid wall instead of just spikes.  Caltrops remains useful, though, if you are splitting your enemies forces.  It leaves one group on the opposite side of yourself and it will take them some time to cross the barrier while giving you another group on your side to deal with, plus the added bonus of having impaled a good many of your enemies on the spikes.  If you are especially strong in Earth, you can try an Earthquake,” Isha demonstrated one on a very small level as he was so weak in Earth, “or you can try expanding the Pitfall Weave so the crack is wide enough to block an enemy force.

 

“If you strengths lie in both Earth and Water, a quagmire is a useful tool.”  Again Isha demonstrated, hating his weakness in both Elements.  “And if you are in an elevated area or near a cliff, mountain, etcetera, you can try a Mudslide which is much the same as the Quagmire Weave, only released from the elevation and giving it a bit of a push to send it rolling downhill.

 

“Now if your strengths lie in Fire, and you are Skilled enough to keep it under control, a wall of Fire is an excellent choice.”  This Isha demonstrated with enough power and dexterity to make up for the rest of his demonstrations; creating a wall of Fire that stretched some fifty feet in either direction.  A waste of Power perhaps, but his ego required it.  “If your strengths are equal between Fire and Earth, a Lava Flow.”  Once more Isha’s demonstration was grander than needed.

 

“And now, with those explanations, we’re going to have some fun.” Isha’s twisted smile, more so than his scars caused, belied his idea of “fun”.

 

He led the group of in the direction of the Blight.

As Linten exited the gateway and looked around he could not help but notice the oppressive weight that began to press down on the comfort of the void; a great dark hand that tried to reach out and crush him in palm. His eyes itched to swing their gaze off to the distance where Isha had brought him the last time they were here. The place he had left him to fend for himself and almost lost all that he was. A shudder gripped his shoulders briefly at the thought before he could regain control and push the oppressiveness back into the dark. But for how long he was unsure; if Isha remained with him this time perhaps he could keep it there. Linten had know for a while now that eventually he would have to return and face this fear, only he had not envisioned that return to be so soon. He forced his breathing to remain at a stead level pace and let the icy grip sink away before he turned his attention back on Isha and his lecture.

 

His mentor’s words were simple and the examples, for the most part were trivial. Though the last few were rather over the top. There was a chance that perhaps his mentor was over compensating for a lack he had with some of the elements of the first several examples. But that was neither Linten’s worry or care at the moment. As long as Isha did not abandon him this time he would find a way to make it through this. Following the big man’s lead he turned his mount toward the very area of the world he never wanted to see again and followed after him. He had gone only a short distance when he realized that Ged was not with them. Turning in his saddle he spotted the man where they had entered still sitting there, his eyes fixated on the blights edge. In this one regard, he would never be his mentor’s son. No matter how much he disliked the man he would never leave him or any other not of the shadow to the blight and it’s horrors.

 

Stopping his mount Linten whistled briefly and then motioned toward Ged as Isha’s head swivelled to see the cause. A small wisp of pending respite evaporated like smoke when his mentor’s giant warhorse swung around and returned to Ged’s location. The two seemed to be discussing something and Linten let his focus return to the blights edge. What ever was going to happen it was between them and in this instance Linten found no gain. Nothing that would stand greater in concern then that dark and twisted edge before him. There was where his focus was trained on and would remain until they had left this lightless land. Nightmares tried to reach back up from his memory but he ignored the misshapen forms floating across the void in shadowy existence. “This time it will be different.”

 

Saidin leapt to his grasp and the weave for Caltrops was already forming as eyes darted back to where Isha and Ged had been. Linten glanced hurriedly around them as he held the weave on the verge of form. But nothing came to his vision at first. He knew Isha held Saidin, he knew the man was weaving. It was only when the gateway rotated into existence that he finally let the weave go. He watched as Ged rode back through the gateway and the silvery opening rotate back to a thin line and disappear. So the man had chosen otherwise. At least he was not going to be left. Still, why did Isha return Ged when he had abandoned Linten to this place when he did not follow? Why still does he look toward a gateway that no longer exists? Does he care more for that man then his own mentee? Isha’s mount turned and his mentor returned to his side, but only slowing enough to ensure Linten was in motion behind him again. He said nothing and Linten though better then to press the issue and questions raging in his mind. They would need each other before they returned from the dark side of that horrid edge.

 

At the edge of the twisted and rotting vegetation that made up the blight, Corin reined in again. The oppressiveness of returning to this place was like an avalanche of icebergs.

~What’s the matter boy. No sense of duty? Worried about your own skin?~

 

Shut up!! He will not leave me this time. He said he would not. He is my mentor I can trust him?

But the reply to the cynical voice in his head was more question then statement. Isha had to remain with him if there was any hope of them finding common ground in the future. His eyes studied the towering man’s one for a moment as Isha sat his mount just inside the edge watching his mentee. No, he will not leave me and I will not dishonour him here. With a spur of his heels his horse jumped forward and continued at Isha’s side. “Lighter then a feather and heavier then a mountain right?” He tried to lighten his voice as his eyes scanned intently their surroundings. He had not let go of Saidin and had once more set two weaves on the verge of forming. This time the shapes would find he was a lot more prepared.

 

It did not take long before they came upon their first opportunity, an opportunity Linten would later want to have back. The snouts and beaks that should never have sat a human form burst through the decaying brush with scythes and swords high overhead. Nightmares flashed to reality and once more he found ice cover him. The cold sweat clamped down with the weight of his fear as he froze. Staring at the ever-closing shadows racing toward him. He had run last time, run as fast as he could while weaves; he still did not remember pounded the ground and space behind him until he collapsed behind a rotting tree and remained there scared stiff for what felt like eternity. This time he could not run, his legs useless as he sat the horse snorting and jerking about. Even the horse knew this was not a place to be. Suddenly a wall of fire raced through the enclosing ranks; shapes of flame and charred flesh moved several paces further before falling in a twist of flailing arms and hooves. But the distraction served its purpose well; shaking Linten back from his mind. The weaves, Caltrops and Quagmire, set in to the ground. The Caltrops ripped up through a couple of the still advancing forms and the Quagmire only a few spans from where Linten sat took the last few that had closed to a deadly distance.

 

His mind worked feverously to pull up the various weaves he had practised and learnt. He set a weave in the ground behind a group trapped by the fire line and then using all he could pull from Saidin safely he set an Earthquake weave under them. The ground shook moderately in their area sending several back into the pit before his next weave settled and filled the small pit with fire. Sweat poured down his face as he worked through several more weaves. Each taking their toll on the determined enemy. Even after they broke off and began to retreat, he set weaves of earth and fire into walls to stop as many as he could and continued the slaying. Darts of air took two more while the tops of a dying tree impaled another. Only after the area lay quiet and still did Linten finally stop his weavings. His eyes studied the ground for any sign of movement; a weave of fire wrapped around earth held at the ready to explode the ground under what ever came to view. But nothing moved again. His sweeping gaze caught the study of Isha, and only then did he realize the twisted snarl that held his mouth. Letting it slip away, his eyes continue their sweep as if he had not noticed his mentors gaze. When he was sure nothing else was going to move where they sat now, he returned his mount back to his mentor’s side. “How was that for a first run?” Linten’s voice was flat with a ribbon thin twist of excitement.

 

 

 

 

Did the universe enjoy torturing him like this?  With anyone else looking on, this would have meant nothing.  Not only did the universe have to make him acutely aware of how similar this was to a previous situation nigh on two years back, but he had to contemplate this while the subject of said last situation looked on and judged his hypocrisy.  Light alone knew what the boy’s feelings were towards him since returning.  Isha would rather turn a blind eye, the only one he had left, towards the murder attempts during training and the barely hidden rage that boiled beneath his beloved mentee’s surface rather than address the issue.  For the sake of everyone, he couldn’t afford to alienate the boy further.

 

~And so what good are you as a mentor then?~

 

‘I’m doing the bloody best I can’

 

~Really, seems to me he’s got you in the palm of his hand~

 

‘I dance to no one’s strings, least of all his’

 

~Keep telling yourself that~

 

With Ged out of the picture, it was just him and Linten.  A prospect that made Isha far more uncomfortable than it should have.

 

“Lighter than a feather and heavier than a mountain right?”

 

It took all the hardened Shienaran’s hard-earned self discipline not to wince.  To hide his unease, he clapped the boy on the back and nodded solemnly as he had done two years previous.  All the same, there was no way to fool himself that nothing was changed and this was still the boy he had called son.  How he missed that.

 

They rode in awkward silence, Isha holding the One Power in the hopes of attracting a nearby Myrdraal.  He kept trying to think of things to say; conversations they should be having.  All he wanted was to patch this up and make everything go back to the way it was because if everything went back to the way it was, there wouldn’t be this sense of guilt hanging over him like a thundercloud ready to obliterate him with lightning at any moment.  He only feared that the Linten might be saidin produced and emanate from the Andoran at his side.

 

The sound of distant howls was almost a welcome relief to the tense silence.  With a grin that refused to touch his singular eye, Isha spurred his warhorse on and motioned Linten to follow.  Releasing his connection with saidin momentarily, the closer the guttural shouts and growls of the Trollocs came, the more heated and quick his blood coursed.  This was where he had always been meant to be.

 

Grabbing saidin automatically, a ten foot wall of fire split the fist in half with the Myrdraal on the opposite side from Linten and him.  He could have made the wall higher, but ten feet was more than enough to keep any Trollocs from leaping over it and any larger would only waste his stamina.  Another wave of Fire seemed to grow up from the ground and rush towards the rushing Trollocs, decimating the first few ranks and Isha could hear the Myrdraal’s rasping voice cursing his Trollocs and urging them around the fire barrier.  Despite himself, Isha’s twisted face rearranged itself into an even more twisted expression: his attempt at a grin.

 

Battle reflex, and mistrust for his current partner, caused him to bring up flows of Spirit before he could calm himself enough.  Attempting to cover his error by combing the Element with Earth and shaking the charging Trollocs to the ground, Isha began to take stock of their situation.    The Myrdraal was slowly forcing unwilling Trollocs around the Fire barrier but not quickly enough to replace those being decimated by the pair of male channellers.  Nevertheless, the black-coated could only keep this up so long and both were beginning to tire.

 

Dropping his wall of Fire, Isha took a gamble and threw the better part of his strength into a bolt of Fire and Air that swept through the Fist on its way towards the Myrdraal.  The Fade avoided the Weave like a snake but got the message and with especial venom, called the retreat.  Too tired and cautious of wasting too much more of his precious strength, the Asha’man wasted few weaves on harrying the fist’s flanks.

 

“How was that for a first run?”

 

Trying to grin proudly, but accomplishing only a hollow smile, Isha shrugged.  “Good enough, tomorrow it’s your responsibility to assassinate that Myrdraal.”