Theon wasn’t among those that chuckled as Asha’man Daine made a Saldaean woman do some extremely provocative dance – he didn’t even get excited. Holding saidin this way sent his emotions into a frenzy, making everything scrabble to get at the void all at once. Guilt threatened to overwhelm frustration, self-loathing and debilitating, impotent fury, but none of them could touch him so long as he held onto this shell. The sweetness made him want to sit down and relish the Power, but the shame kept him fixed on the tasks at hand. He’d placed himself in the center of a terrible belief, tricked his mind so thoroughly that he worried at whether or not he’d ever be able to undo what he’d done.
He tried not to concentrate on how awful he felt. After all, there was always the possibility that his imagination had stumbled upon a sacred truth. What if, by seizing the Power, people really were forcing themselves on the pattern? Wasn’t there a reason that those who followed the teaching of Lothaire Mantelar, albeit radically, had mounted an all out war against the women that ruled this Tower? Wasn’t there a reason that women were known throughout the world as vile witches?
Wasn’t there a reason that channeling was against Tairen law?
He studied the flows and canted his head, wondering at how extraordinarily complex they were. Even his brilliant mind had trouble picking them apart. Seizing saidin was like riding a wild stallion bareback on one foot while clenching it’s hair with your toes in the other – even if you could make it do as you liked, the consequences of failure would make any other death seem like a mercy by comparison. The overwhelming combination of exhilaration and ecstasy made it difficult to concentrate and comprehend, despite his eidetic memory.
He closed his eyes, trying to recapture the weaves that Asha’man Daine had woven. Why did they appear complicated? Because he had woven a complicated creature, that’s why. The object of this lesson wasn’t to replicate that which Daine had woven, but to create something new. Reluctantly, he looked again, just long enough to catch what he thought looked like a recurring pattern before a scandalized voice sliced through the giggling crowd.
“Daine!” The sea witch exclaimed.
He blankly waited while the woman demonstrated the weave, thinking about the strange pattern he’d discovered before the Saldaean woman had dissipated. Meanwhile, his finger gently traced the pattern, swirling around almost hypnotically. It was possible that one of the other boys were watching him, perhaps he would understand what Theon was demonstrating – or hypothesizing. When he tried to recall the weaves, they were fuzzy in his mind; it was rather like trying to recall something he’d read or seen in a dream.
The Asha’man demonstrated again. Theon studied again. His theory was correct.
He looked at the subtle way that this weave had varied from the other weaves, scratching his chin as if musing over what he would create. His body was beginning to ache from the strain of holding saidin so long – he was weak, after all. Not like other boys, who could seize the power for the better part of an hour before they began to feel exhaustion.
He took a deep breath as he was given leave to make his own shape, but trouble was, there wasn’t enough water. His bowl was only half-full. After looking at some of the thick flows that Sadrok seemed to be weaving, Theon decided to take another route entirely. He didn’t need threads of yarn, he needed threads of linen.
So he made them.
Water came out so quickly, so easily that it almost made him proud. That is, until he remembered what it was he was doing to the pattern. This gentle reminder – that was a man, forcing the pattern to do as he willed – seemed to dominate his thoughts, making it difficult to concentrate. His first creation fell into the bowl, splashing along the sides. So did his second, and his third.
Finally, he reached out to the strands of spilled water, drawing them toward the bowl. It was strange, being able to feel the water as if it was a part of him. He began again by drawing everything into the bowl, and then lifting the water up, back into the oblong shape that he’d created before. This time, however, he took hold of the core composition of the weave, winding the threads tightly around the spine of the weave and laying a net over the skin, then replicating this pattern as the water was drawn out.
What stared at him was a large grub worm. Tentatively, he reached out to shape it with his hands; it was much easier to make the construction conform to the shape he needed if he just guided it, ever so gently, with his fingers. He kept the spine of the weave into a tightly woven cord, flaring it out like a wire-frame around the head of the grub worm. With the sweep of his hands, he curled the head into a point, then did the same with its tail. It was too fat, too short. He stretched it out longer, making it into an earthworm with a bulbous head.
The Asha’man circled him, momentarily intrigued. In the void — what of it he could call the void — he didn’t feel any pressure at the blackcoat’s sudden appearance. Other emotions assailed him from the outside, but only one of them mattered. No time to bury himself in it. He leaned in, narrowing his eyes as he worked A crease here, some knots there…yes, those almost looked like eyes. The crease suggested a mouth, now…
Suddenly a snake writhed and squirmed about, rearing as if to snap.
“Good job.” Said the Asha’man, moving onto the next project.
But Theon wasn’t finished. What would happen if he tried to shape the mouth a little more, to make a tongue? He looped the wiring about just so…
A pop resounded across the halls of the classroom, and the snake exploded like a skyflower, splattering the students with ten thousand little beads of water.
In reply to Part II: Dancing Queen (or King)[show]/[hide]
Contrary to what Daine had expected, he was actually enjoying teaching the novices. When he’d been transferred from the Black Tower to the White, somewhat against his will, he wasn’t sure what to expect. It seemed so passive here, with the women hiding in their Tower waiting for Tarmon Gai’don to happen, whereas the Black Tower was doing something about it. However, since his arrival, he realized the women actually were doing something, they were just much more subtle about it. Come to think of it, it was kind of like how Yasmene Sedai had described Air and Water versus Fire and Earth. Perhaps that’s why women had the Air/Water affinity and men were better with Fire/Earth. Definitely something to think about later, and perhaps discuss with Yasmene, if she could tolerate his presence outside of this lesson.
“Well, now that you’ve had practice pulling water out of the air, now it’s time to actually do something with that water.” Yasmene Sedai said loudly, interrupting Daine’s thoughts. Yarren, Daine noticed, was moving among the novices, passing out empty soup bowls. The few novices out of their seats, where they were depositing their balls of water back into the buckets at the front of the room, hurried back to their desks when Yasmene started talking.
“Each of you has a bowl in front of you, so first you will create a ball of water small enough to fit in the bowl, and if you can’t make a ball that big, that’s fine, you can make two if you want, or work with half the amount, it’s your choice.”
Goosebumps shuddered over Daine’s arms, indication that Yasmene was channelling. She had done the demonstrations for the first part, but for this section, he wanted to contribute as well, so he quickly seized saidin and separated out water, forming a ball at the same time as her.
“You will be using the bowl as a container, so that your hands are free for other things, because many of you will feel the need to use gestures.” Plucking her ball of water out of the air with a net of water, Yasmene deposited it into the bowl Yarren handed her, and placed the bowl on the large desk that dominated the front of the classroom. Frowning momentarily, Yasmene did something, and suddenly the water in her bowl was a cool blue-green.
Since she was obviously waiting for him, Daine quickly dumped his water in the bowl, channelling Spirit into it, giving the water a silvery glow. Obviously Yasmene was satisfied with that, because she turned back to the novices, informing them that they wouldn’t have to colour their water, she and Asha’man Daine were doing it to make the demonstration much easier to see.
“Now this one is a modified version of the ball weave; it’s just a different shape and one that you will be moving around by shortening and lengthening different strands within the weave, like this.” Yasmene, who had been holding saidar the entire time as evidenced by the goosebumps that still populated Daine’s arms under the long sleeves of his uniform, did something again, and suddenly a figure rose up out of her bowl. The vaguely man-shaped figure clambered awkwardly over the side of the bowl, and once standing on the desk, began slowly dancing an awkward jig. The novices all began giggling and clapping, and Daine had to give Yasmene some credit, she did think up some fun lessons. He had no idea what he would teach the novices, which is why he went to the Mistress of Novices for help in the first place.
Not about to be outdone, Daine seized again, channelling into his bowl of water, essentially a net of water in the shape of what he wanted, and out of his bowl rose a shape, definitely female, which also climbed out of the bowl and began dancing. Where Yasmene’s was doing some sort of jig or country dance, Daine’s water figure fluidly slipped into the beginnings of the sa’sara. ‘She’ didn’t get very far though, because Yasmene’s scandalized “Asha’man Daine!” broke his concentration so entirely that his dancer melted into a puddle that ran across the desk and dripped onto the floor. Unable to restrain themselves, the novices roared with laughter, and even Daine and Yasmene succumbed to the hilarity of it.
“Well now,” Yasmene said when everyone had finally calmed down, “you’ve seen the theory behind the weaves, so we’ll divide into groups again, boys with Asha’man Daine and girls with me.”
Daine moved off to the left side of the room again, surrounded by white clad boys and young men, some of whom couldn’t be much younger than him. Surrounded by those eager faces though, Daine felt positively old.
“Right, I’ll show you the weave again, regretfully not the dance or her brother might have my head again, and then you can go off to practice. Don’t worry if you can’t get your figure to do very much, it’s quite difficult to manipulate single strands within weaves; that’s why thicker strands are better, even if the figure is awkward. You don’t even have to make a person, just make some sort of shape and move it around a bit. Whatever you’re comfortable with.
To make the demonstration easier, Daine used much thicker strands of water which had been flattened, much like ribbons, and wrapped them up in the shape of a stylized horse. The horse walked stiff-legged across the desk he was using, then laboriously turned around and jumped into the bowl before turning into a puddle of water again. “Remember, wider, flat strands make it easier to move things, but the movements are much jerkier and less defined. Experiment with whatever you’re comfortable with, and if you lose control of the water, make a net just like the ball weave and lay it flat under the puddle. You can pick up the water like that, put it back in the bowl and start new, like this.”
Forming a tightly woven net flat on the desk, Daine pointed to a random novice. “You, boy, dump the bowl on the desk please.” Gulping, the novice did as he was told, watching in surprise as the water ran to the edge of the desk and stopped, because Daine had raised the edge of his weave into a bowl, effectively containing the water.
“Now then, if there aren’t any questions, you can get to work.” Daine glanced over at Yasmene Sedai who was huddled with the girls, where it looked like a cat was walking around the desk. Then the female novices scattered, and Yasmene went back to the front of the room to join her brother. Daine elected to move around among the novices. Noticing one young man with a raised hand, Daine hurried over, just as Yasmene did the same for one of the girls.
OOC: I’m sure you guys know the drill by now, 500 words please, nothing too good or dramatic, you’re all new novices : ) If you’re having trouble finding ideas for what to make with your water, email me and we’ll concoct something. This lesson is now closed unless you have a really good reason or prior permission.
