Taymist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love and Regret - Deacon Blue

Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes - Paul Simon

Darkness On The Edge of Town - Bruce Springsteen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Black Magic Woman - Santana

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Black Eyed Boy - Texas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re related?”

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

Black Velvet - Alannah Myles

Two Minutes To Midnight - Iron Maiden

Blue Velvet - Bobby Vinton

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

War On Drugs - Sisters of Mercy

Black Coffee In Bed - Squeeze

Let ye off then  :P hehe

Rockin' In The Free World - Neil Young

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

"Standing At The Edge" - Hawkwind

It was surprising how quickly time could pass, Rhya mused. She was sitting on the veranda, curled up in a pile of cushions, her head tilted back against the wall of the house as she gazed out at the pinpoints of stars just beginning to appear in the deepening blue of the evening sky.

Relaxing here had become a daily habit, shocking her with how easily she’d fallen into a routine and how comfortable she felt staying there. None of her earlier qualms had borne fruit. She didn’t feel like she was imposing at all and that had been one of her greatest concerns. There had definitely been some funny moments during the first few days, and there were still times when she made herself scarce to give Owen what she felt was much needed space, but very little awkwardness all in all. Being uncomfortable was something she disliked excessively so she was thankful it had not proven to be the case here. In fact, she knew, if she was told that she had to leave, she’d be quite distraught. Finding a new home was something she had refused to believe possible just a few short weeks before but now, she could admit to herself that it was exactly how she saw this place.

She sensed rather than heard Owen arrive and settle himself in his usual position, but did not turn. Though they had talked a lot and on many subjects, she almost appreciated the silences more. Not everyone had the ability to sit at peace or to enjoy company without need for speech. That man, she thought in amusement, can move almost as quietly as Ice. The wolf had startled her on a few occasions by appearing at her side unexpectedly and disappearing just as suddenly. She liked the thought that maybe Ice was checking up on her during her wandering around the Stedding though she had no reason to believe it true. Still, it was a comforting idea at a time when everything was so new and her world was changing so quickly.

Rhya’s eyes finally slid to where Owen sat. She had been somewhat taken aback by his offer to be her mentor, having assumed him far too important and busy a person to take on such a task but equally delighted that she would be taught by someone she liked and respected and was gradually coming to trust implicitly. The thought of having to learn so many new things under the auspices of a stranger was not one that appealed at all, so she had gladly accepted.

She knew what the plan was for tonight and her stomach flipped a little with nerves as watched Owen’s expression. She had a feeling that he wasn’t quite sure she could cope with this and she was equally determined to prove that she could. She didn’t want to let him down and, more than that, she wanted to learn. She’d had weeks now to get used to the idea but knowing she had the ability to do this and actually doing it were two different things. She’d had enough of merely thinking about it.

Then, as though reaching a decision, Owen began to speak and Rhya heeded the warnings he gave, though her nervousness increased still further when he mentioned dying and her face paled slightly. Rhyanon Chaede, pull yourself together, she mentally berated herself, subconsciously tilting her chin as her stubborn nature reared its head. You can do this, now concentrate. She swallowed and eventually nodded her understanding, listening to the rest of the instructions she was given.

Closing her eyes, she tried to relax again, deepening her breathing.

"Do not try to force it. Just relax and drift. Feel your muscles relaxing; your breathing easing. Focus on the wolves and moving to a spiritual place."

Easier said than done, she thought ruefully, emptying her mind and  trying to do as she was bid. Letting all of her muscles ease off, she concentrated on the sense of the wolves as Owen’s voice became but a murmur and gradually lost her connection with reality, slipping into sleep... and into the Dream.

She was standing before a cottage surrounded by trees, one she vaguely recognized from her explorations but couldn’t recall to whom it belonged. She spotted Owen sitting on a bench with Ice nearby but instinctively knew something was wrong from the slight twitch of his lips. Something didn’t feel right and it took her only a few seconds to work out what as her face flamed scarlet. The blue dress she wore was a silly frilly confection that her mother had made her wear for her 6th naming day. The one time that Fionnda had actually approved of anything Rhya had done. Her hair, she knew without checking, would be in the ringlets her mother had deemed acceptable for a young girl. Trying to gather her composure, Rhya focused... somehow... and not quite sure what she was doing... until she suddenly had her normal clothes on and her hair back in its usual unruly tumble down her back, before coughing slightly and looking to her mentor for instructions on what would happen next, a slight glare dared him to laugh openly as she sighed inwardly. Light but this isn’t going to be easy.

Ah good, I see you found your way over here Moon, welcome to the RP side.  :D

OOC: Sorry for the delay. Absolutely swamped lately.


IC: Although some of the people appeared curious as Miryana guided her through the Stedding, they didn't crowd her and Rhya felt a little more at ease. Whether it was from the bath, the food or being in a Stedding, she wasn't certain but the woman's presence alone was rather soothing and she found herself enjoying the fresh air, the scents and sounds of the place as her eyes roved curiously over her surroundings, darting every which way so as not to miss any details.

Everything seems to be very organised and well laid out, she thought. There were Wolfkin everywhere, most moving purposefully but some obviously relaxing in the sunshine. Some groups appeared to be classes judging by their attitudes of concentration though she couldn't tell what in.

Eventually they turned down a small pathway to a more secluded and peaceful area. The voices became distant then, little more than a murmur. As they rounded a bend, Rhya came up short, her jaw almost hitting the ground, for what confronted them was no cabin or house such as she had expected but rather a ... well, what could only be called a tree house. Her eyes were like saucers as she took in the scene before her, spotting Ice just as Miryana reached down to scratch his head. And I'm going to stay here? as she considered that idea, she found it appealed greatly and a small grin bloomed on her face but before she had time to wonder more, Owen swung into view down a rope and landed lightly beside them.

“Your new charge is fit and fed my friend she is ready for you to find her a place to sleep until you can begin her training.”

"Thank you Miryana," Owen smiled at her and turned to Rhya. "Feel better?"

She nodded, still grinning and waved shyly at Miryana as the Sage left, heading back to the Infirmary.

"Your pack and belongings are here already." Owen indicated the tree house above them. "Why don't you explore for a while? Settle in."

"I think I will. Its much larger than I expected... the Stedding," she replied. "It'll take some time to get used to."

"If you get lost, just ask for directions. Everyone knows the tree house."

Rhya nodded, grateful for the chance to be alone and gather her thoughts. "I'll be back in a while then." She turned, debating which way to go first and decided to stick close to the house. She still wasn't up to lots of questions from people she didn't know but curiousity was getting the better of her and she picked a random direction and set off to see what she could find.
 

Continued here: 1,000 Points of Light

Smiling a little as Miryana left, Rhya was relieved to find herself alone with some time to gather her thoughts and delighted at the sight of the bath. Another luxury that she'd missed and promised herself she'd never take for granted again.

Sinking into the water, she closed her eyes, enjoying the peace and letting the heat cleanse away all the stress of the recent journey. As the minutes passed, the realisation finally found its way into her head that she was safe. Not just safe but actually welcome. From what Miryana had said, and Owen had already told her, there were many others like them who had found a sanctuary in these woods and she knew that she had no choice but to join them and to make the most of it. Much as she didn't want to admit it to herself, there would not be a day any time soon when she could return home. It was no longer her home and she knew she had to accept that.

Sighing, Rhya, sat up again, aware of the time passing. They'll be thinking I've drowned if I don't hurry. Hot on the heels of that thought came a loud rumbling and she chuckled at the sharp hunger pangs which had gone unnoticed in her earlier nervousness. It took but a few minutes to finish washing and drying and she was soon redressed in clean clothes. The tiredness, though still there, was lessened and she wrung her long hair out, rubbing it dry as best she could before heading for the kitchen.

Her nose was assailed by a variety of smells as she opened the door and her stomach rumbled again even more loudly. The sound of laughter had her blushing as she spotted Miryana watching her from where she was busy cooking.

"I seem to have my appetite back," Rhya said grinning ruefully. She walked closer, her nose twitching delicately, expression hopeful. "The food smells wonderful."

"Your bath obviously helped," Miryana replied. "Would you like to rest before you eat?"

"No, thank you. I feel a great deal better and not ready to sleep just yet."

The room was homely, light and airy and she let her gaze wander to the windows through which she could see people moving around in the distance. She suddenly had an urge to explore but that could wait. One thing at a time, she thought, taking a seat at the large table.

As Owen explained, Rhya stopped glaring and gave a rather lopsided smile in return. Owen talked of this place as home and his love for it was real, that much she could tell. It wasn’t home though. Not for her. Not yet. To her, this was going to be another step through what already felt like a long ordeal.

A large white shape launched itself out of nowhere at Owen and a strangled scream erupted from her throat, cut off when she caught sight of his smiling face and recalled his story about Ice. Unable to move, she saw the wolf's blue eyes swing in her direction. What a beautiful creature, was all she could think as Ice padded around her.  It wasn’t long before she found her fingers itching to touch the wolf’s fur and she reached out, tentatively at first, to stroke Ice’s head as they started walking again. Her eyes widened in awe for the second time that day.

Suddenly the trees thinned and they were entering a more open space, greeted by a rush of fresh air as a breeze stirred. She’d hardly had time to adjust to the extra light when they were surrounded by people. There were surely only a few though it seemed like hundreds and she clammed up, back stiffening and more claustrophobic than she had been at any time during the journey through the confines of the forest. Her fists clenched hard by her sides and she was just on the verge of looking to Owen in panic when everyone seemed to fade into thin air. Relieved, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and followed Owen into the nearby building.

He indicated a seat as he asked for someone and she sat, looking around, taking in the details of her surroundings until he mentioned building a home. Panic truly set in then, in spite of his reassurance that everything would be alright, and she asked herself once more what she’d ever be able to give to these people in return. She didn’t have much chance to consider the idea, however, as a woman arrived. Owen introduced her as Miryana, a Healer, but she missed the rest of his words, her brain too wrapped up in the fact that the only person she knew, her only friend, was about to leave. She stood, her hand half raised as though to stop him, before she stifled the impulse and stealed herself to look at the newcomer.

Rhya almost laughed at the irony of that. Just who is the newcomer here? Shaking herself, she felt Miryana take her hand and resisted the urge to snatch it away. The woman spoke pleasantly. A chat? She felt all of her internal barriers slam up at that and watched as Miryana pulled Owen into another room. Left alone, she slumped in the chair. So much change. Too much change. Exhaustion hit her like a wave and she stared dully at the floor between her feet.

Miryana soon returned and Rhya got onto the examination table as she was told to, tolerating the pushing and prodding although the woman was gentle about it. She has kind eyes, she thought. Someone can’t be bad with eyes like that. She took the cup of tea that was handed to her with gratitude. She had missed hot tea. A small smile curved her lips as she sipped at it, savouring the flavour and found her tongue sufficiently to voice her thanks.

“I am sure Owen has done much to answer your questions but if any still trouble you I would be glad to try and answer them for you.  After we talk I will have a hot bath drawn for you so that you can wash the journey off of you.  Rhya, you are home child.”

Rhya looked at Miryana carefully. How do I tell someone that their home is not mine when they are being so nice? How do I explain that my home is so very far from here? And why would anyone care anyway? What if they change their minds and say I cannot stay?

“A… a bath? That … it sounds wonderful, my thanks. Washing in cold water is hardly the same,” she dredged up a smile for Miryana, falling back on the courtesies her mother had taught her and hiding her thoughts behind a mask of civility. “You have a beautiful home here. Are there many of… of us living here?”

The news that there would still be another two days of travel had at first been unwelcome. Rhya was almost certain that her feet were not going to survive this journey. The time went in more quickly than expected though as Owen distracted her with stories of the wolves and the Stedding, imparting scraps of history about the forest around them. It was imposing but somehow also welcoming. She’d always liked being near trees and these specimens were incredible, towering into the air above and providing a shady canopy of branches over their heads as they rode. The silence was deep, broken only by the sound of their own hushed voices, as though sound somehow violated the sanctity of this place.

Owen eventually pointed out the wolves. If he hadn’t done so, she was quite sure she’d never have seen them, slinking through the undergrowth like ghosts. She watched them in fascination, her eyes darting every which way, trying to catch glimpses as often as possible. Now and then she caught impressions just at the edge of her mind and, rather than worrying, she took it all in, understanding now what was happening though still bemused by it.

So caught up in the journey through the forest was she, that she forgot about her aching limbs and the ordeal still ahead of her, listening instead to Owen as he spoke of the wolves and their attitude to humans.

Rhya was about to respond when she was brought up short. Her eyes widened and her lips parted on a soft gasp as she felt... something. A shiver ran down her spine as a new sensation washed over her. It tingled. What had changed? She didn’t know, but certainly something had. Her expression changed from surprise to curiousity to wariness and finally, to wonder at the sense of peace she felt. Her fingers tightened involuntarily on Owen’s arm.

“What... umm... did you..?” She tried to unscramble her words but only achieved a garbled stuttering. Seeing that Owen was looking at her closely, she was suddenly suspiscious. He knows about this! Gathering herself, she titled her chin, glared and demanded, “WHAT was that?”

Oh dear, I just saw this. Deepest sympathy to you both. My first cat was 21 when she passed and I'd had her since we were both born. It was excruciatingly hard. There have been others since but just the length of time made that loss so much harder. So sorry to hear you've had to deal with this. *hugs*