I do what I have to.
That was enough to keep him going during the sunlit hours of the day; he led, his orders were obeyed and followed and he met the challenges before him with his usual focused intensity. For all the world it seemed as if Zeen finally had his own affairs in order. He was the Captain-General of the Green Ajah. He had bonded a lost Warder. By all accounts and measuring, he was doing well.
When night fell however, and the Tower quieted, the Amadician was not quite able to maintain the facade. Shadows came, and he still could not look at their flickering movement without tensing and bracing for attacks and blades that never came. Red’s screams... “Kaia!”... the sounds haunted him with frightening regularity that time barely dimmed and could not erase. Zeen closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh and leaned back in his chair, his head tilting up towards the ceiling of his personal rooms. The report he had been reading was tossed carelessly back onto his desk.
His attention turned inward and he followed the Power wrought connection that joined him to the former M’Hael. The bond boiled and churned, raging beneath his touch, a chaotic whirlpool that threatened to drag him under with each breath. Red’s resentment was palpable, the distance that separated them a wide chasm that hurt more than the grey eyed man would ever admit. Jaryd did not want that distance to bridged and Zeen could not say that he blamed the smaller man. Despite the way their emotions tangled and twisted together until it was uncertain who began where, he did his best to respect his friend’s wishes and stayed away.
Long fingers rubbed at the scar that slashed between his brows, the Asha’man dropping his head, his eyes opening again as he stared wearily at the report again. He seized saidin and set the sheet of paper ablaze with an irritable flick of his hand. It burned so hot that not even ash remained. He shoved back with his legs and stood abruptly, kicking his chair as hard as he could. The crash it made against the far wall was most satisfying. Zeen yanked a shirt on before he left his rooms behind, the space suddenly too small to contain all of the memories and emotions that threatened to burst free. He ignored the open laces that hung down to nearly his waist, just as he ignored the looks he received as he strode out of the Green Ajah courtyard. He had better things to be concerned about the proper state of his attire.
He was simply walking now... where? It did not matter where. He was outside. Moving helped and - he froze, his thoughts listing to the side before completely abandoning him. He would recognize her anywhere, her silhouette, her shadow... anything... Guilt and shame shot through him, rolling over him in debilitating waves. He could not breathe. Oh Light... Light, Light Light... Zeen felt Jaryd’s interest sharpen, along with... what was this? Concern? No. He was imagining it. That could not be what he felt. Sanity wavered for a moment and it was too much. The Amadician promptly muffled the bond, but even that did not return the self-control he so desperately sought.
“Tia.”
No sound emerged from his lips and the tip of his tongue went out to wet them.
“Tia,” he tried again, the unflattering croak of sound drawing the Accepted’s attention. Zeen gave the pins that hung around his neck a self-conscious tug and approached her cautiously. Her green eyes were... there was no malice there. No... blame...? No hate? How could that be? He had... he had led her to be collared... Panic and self-loathing made his breath sharp and short, and when he finally stopped in front of her, his hands reached out and grasped both of hers with white knuckled intensity.
“I am sorry. I am so so very sorry.” The words spilled from his mouth and he could not stop them. He bowed his head, forehead nearly touching their joined hands. “I did not mean for you to be collared as well. Light, I am sorry! Please... please forgive me...”
That was enough to keep him going during the sunlit hours of the day; he led, his orders were obeyed and followed and he met the challenges before him with his usual focused intensity. For all the world it seemed as if Zeen finally had his own affairs in order. He was the Captain-General of the Green Ajah. He had bonded a lost Warder. By all accounts and measuring, he was doing well.
When night fell however, and the Tower quieted, the Amadician was not quite able to maintain the facade. Shadows came, and he still could not look at their flickering movement without tensing and bracing for attacks and blades that never came. Red’s screams... “Kaia!”... the sounds haunted him with frightening regularity that time barely dimmed and could not erase. Zeen closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh and leaned back in his chair, his head tilting up towards the ceiling of his personal rooms. The report he had been reading was tossed carelessly back onto his desk.
His attention turned inward and he followed the Power wrought connection that joined him to the former M’Hael. The bond boiled and churned, raging beneath his touch, a chaotic whirlpool that threatened to drag him under with each breath. Red’s resentment was palpable, the distance that separated them a wide chasm that hurt more than the grey eyed man would ever admit. Jaryd did not want that distance to bridged and Zeen could not say that he blamed the smaller man. Despite the way their emotions tangled and twisted together until it was uncertain who began where, he did his best to respect his friend’s wishes and stayed away.
Long fingers rubbed at the scar that slashed between his brows, the Asha’man dropping his head, his eyes opening again as he stared wearily at the report again. He seized saidin and set the sheet of paper ablaze with an irritable flick of his hand. It burned so hot that not even ash remained. He shoved back with his legs and stood abruptly, kicking his chair as hard as he could. The crash it made against the far wall was most satisfying. Zeen yanked a shirt on before he left his rooms behind, the space suddenly too small to contain all of the memories and emotions that threatened to burst free. He ignored the open laces that hung down to nearly his waist, just as he ignored the looks he received as he strode out of the Green Ajah courtyard. He had better things to be concerned about the proper state of his attire.
He was simply walking now... where? It did not matter where. He was outside. Moving helped and - he froze, his thoughts listing to the side before completely abandoning him. He would recognize her anywhere, her silhouette, her shadow... anything... Guilt and shame shot through him, rolling over him in debilitating waves. He could not breathe. Oh Light... Light, Light Light... Zeen felt Jaryd’s interest sharpen, along with... what was this? Concern? No. He was imagining it. That could not be what he felt. Sanity wavered for a moment and it was too much. The Amadician promptly muffled the bond, but even that did not return the self-control he so desperately sought.
“Tia.”
No sound emerged from his lips and the tip of his tongue went out to wet them.
“Tia,” he tried again, the unflattering croak of sound drawing the Accepted’s attention. Zeen gave the pins that hung around his neck a self-conscious tug and approached her cautiously. Her green eyes were... there was no malice there. No... blame...? No hate? How could that be? He had... he had led her to be collared... Panic and self-loathing made his breath sharp and short, and when he finally stopped in front of her, his hands reached out and grasped both of hers with white knuckled intensity.
“I am sorry. I am so so very sorry.” The words spilled from his mouth and he could not stop them. He bowed his head, forehead nearly touching their joined hands. “I did not mean for you to be collared as well. Light, I am sorry! Please... please forgive me...”
