By day, Zeen had become a familiar fixture out in Hama Valon. He still refused to wear the ridiculous black coat but had reached a tenuous level of compromise by wearing his pins on a leather cord that hung from around his neck.
The newly raised Asha’man was a constant presence around the construction areas, if not an entirely reassuring one. He saw the furtive glances, the wary expressions... He could not truly blame those that subsisted on such rumours about him. He did not know who circulated them; he did not care. He refused to speak of his time collared, and that was all that mattered. Best that he not even think about it. Beneath the light of the sun and the open skies, he could almost pretend that it had not happened. Rumours were all that the people knew of him and he was content to keep it as such.
His Talent for Earthsinging was complemented by the trio of Ogier that had come to help. Vamar, son of Dorei, son of Masaya; Seryn, son of Halim, son of Jocar; and Janden, son of Yoval, son of Lav. He was dwarfed by them and found the experience to be a novel one. Watching them as they shifted and reshaped living stone was a privilege in and of itself; being included in their sacred process was an honour that the Amadician had not expected to be afforded in his lifetime. The sensation of peace never lasted long, but he clung onto it whenever he could as he listened to the three sonorous voices lifting into song.
The brown haired man had also become a familiar fixture in the Yards. By night, he was a man possessed. He ran and ran and ran until he could not physically withstand the strain anymore. It took more and more laps, however, and when the inevitable happened that his body adapted, he was finally denied the exhausted oblivion that allowed him some semblance of rest and sanity. He had woken up screaming in the morning. He decided then that it was time he stopped using saidin to lift and settle the bricks. He stripped down to his breeches and joined the others along sturdy scaffolding and hauled and lifted, all the while baking and sweating beneath the sun, perfectly content to ignore the strange looks.
Zeen had lost count of how many days it had been, the hours mercifully blurring together. There was something simple in working with his body and he let himself fall into the mindless rhythmic repetition of it. It was... different, being able to use his hands. He stretched out aching muscles, his back popping in several places as he wiped at his face with his forearm. He waved off the offer for water; he did not need it yet. He caught sight of the Ogier moving below him, a brief wave from Vamar telling the Amadician all that he needed to know. He began the long climb down back to the ground. Another section of the curtain wall had been finished.
The Asha’man wiped his hands on his breeches, leaving behind smears of whitish dust. He smiled in greeting as he approached the three towering creatures, bowing when he reached them. Before he could say anything, however, a sudden yell pierced the air, quickly picked up by several other voices. Zeen glanced around, trying to find the source of the disturbance. The sound of something falling, crashing... it was close. There! Just off to his left. A pallet of stone brick... falling. Falling at him. At them. The Void settled into place around him.
The impossibly heavy load crashed through the scaffolding as if the thick beams were nothing more than matchsticks. Silver-grey eyes watched the approaching catastrophe as if he had hours to act and not seconds. Men and women screaming as they fell. He seized saidin, the world jumping into life affirming clarity.
A wide net of Air slowed the falling people. Bruises. Broken bones perhaps, but they would live. A thrust of Earth into the ground knocked the Ogier away from him. The Green wove a third time, a dome of hardened Air springing up around him. The first stones that peppered his shield were easy enough to ignore. When the majority of the pallet landed, the impact drove Zeen to his knees. The breath left him in a strangled grunt. He could not see the sky or the sun, the weight bearing down on his exhausted body. It was like... it was so much like... No! He felt icy fingers of fear sliding up his spine. He could feel the tremble of absolute fatigue along his arms and his shoulders. Light help him he could not... hold... The Shield collapsed and he sank into blessed, dreamless darkness.
The newly raised Asha’man was a constant presence around the construction areas, if not an entirely reassuring one. He saw the furtive glances, the wary expressions... He could not truly blame those that subsisted on such rumours about him. He did not know who circulated them; he did not care. He refused to speak of his time collared, and that was all that mattered. Best that he not even think about it. Beneath the light of the sun and the open skies, he could almost pretend that it had not happened. Rumours were all that the people knew of him and he was content to keep it as such.
His Talent for Earthsinging was complemented by the trio of Ogier that had come to help. Vamar, son of Dorei, son of Masaya; Seryn, son of Halim, son of Jocar; and Janden, son of Yoval, son of Lav. He was dwarfed by them and found the experience to be a novel one. Watching them as they shifted and reshaped living stone was a privilege in and of itself; being included in their sacred process was an honour that the Amadician had not expected to be afforded in his lifetime. The sensation of peace never lasted long, but he clung onto it whenever he could as he listened to the three sonorous voices lifting into song.
The brown haired man had also become a familiar fixture in the Yards. By night, he was a man possessed. He ran and ran and ran until he could not physically withstand the strain anymore. It took more and more laps, however, and when the inevitable happened that his body adapted, he was finally denied the exhausted oblivion that allowed him some semblance of rest and sanity. He had woken up screaming in the morning. He decided then that it was time he stopped using saidin to lift and settle the bricks. He stripped down to his breeches and joined the others along sturdy scaffolding and hauled and lifted, all the while baking and sweating beneath the sun, perfectly content to ignore the strange looks.
Zeen had lost count of how many days it had been, the hours mercifully blurring together. There was something simple in working with his body and he let himself fall into the mindless rhythmic repetition of it. It was... different, being able to use his hands. He stretched out aching muscles, his back popping in several places as he wiped at his face with his forearm. He waved off the offer for water; he did not need it yet. He caught sight of the Ogier moving below him, a brief wave from Vamar telling the Amadician all that he needed to know. He began the long climb down back to the ground. Another section of the curtain wall had been finished.
The Asha’man wiped his hands on his breeches, leaving behind smears of whitish dust. He smiled in greeting as he approached the three towering creatures, bowing when he reached them. Before he could say anything, however, a sudden yell pierced the air, quickly picked up by several other voices. Zeen glanced around, trying to find the source of the disturbance. The sound of something falling, crashing... it was close. There! Just off to his left. A pallet of stone brick... falling. Falling at him. At them. The Void settled into place around him.
The impossibly heavy load crashed through the scaffolding as if the thick beams were nothing more than matchsticks. Silver-grey eyes watched the approaching catastrophe as if he had hours to act and not seconds. Men and women screaming as they fell. He seized saidin, the world jumping into life affirming clarity.
A wide net of Air slowed the falling people. Bruises. Broken bones perhaps, but they would live. A thrust of Earth into the ground knocked the Ogier away from him. The Green wove a third time, a dome of hardened Air springing up around him. The first stones that peppered his shield were easy enough to ignore. When the majority of the pallet landed, the impact drove Zeen to his knees. The breath left him in a strangled grunt. He could not see the sky or the sun, the weight bearing down on his exhausted body. It was like... it was so much like... No! He felt icy fingers of fear sliding up his spine. He could feel the tremble of absolute fatigue along his arms and his shoulders. Light help him he could not... hold... The Shield collapsed and he sank into blessed, dreamless darkness.
