The Grey Tower

After his short tale had been told, the Dedicated watched the Asha’man. His green eyes were piercing as he waited on the other’s verdict, his head lifted as if he expected the other man to condemn him. He did not seem worried, but that stood to reason. If what he had said was true, he was incapable of looking worried, even if deep down he was terrified of the other’s decision. When Gareth finally spoke, the younger man simply dipped his head, nodding as he gave a short but curt, “Of course, Gareth Asha’man.” In response. It seemed he had nothing else to say on the matter, however. The story had been told, Gareth had made his decision, and there was no reason to go on about it.

Then it seemed it was, finally, time to begin the lesson that he had come here for. The conversation they had been having before seemed to vanish from Caddoc’s mind as he focused on his training, one of the only things that could push those memories from his mind. That strange spark in his eye seemed to dim, instead shifting to something focused and serious as he seized Saidin as he was told. He was silent as he bent it to his will, feeling (not seeing as a Novice would have) the fact that the other was also filled with the One Power. It was a deep and powerful sensation from Gareth, as it was from all men when they held Saidin, and it caused the Dedicated’s body to tense, touches of his old paranoia clinging to him even to this day. He pushed this to the side, however, and focused solely on the task before him. Spirit was simple for him to wield. Of all his strengths, Spirit was his best, and the forming of the weave seemed simple. The net he produced was tight and straight, but flexible as he wove it into existence, forcing the strands together as Saidin bucked and fought him with every moment he held onto it. Then, sending it from him, he copied Gareth’s gestures and settled it over the wooden dummy, allowing it to enlarge so that it covered the figure’s entire form. This done, he turned part of his attention to Gareth, though he kept his mind on his weave and what it was doing, looking for instruction from the other as he quietly held onto the One Power. The surge of life crashed into him, as always reluctant to yield, reluctant to leave, and Caddoc clung to it as he had always done, feeling himself almost singing with power….

He spoke a moment later, and his voice continued to be almost emotionless, though there was something beneath it that spoke of excitement, not unusual when holding Saidin. “You say this is a ‘simple’ weave for Delving, Asha’man.” He said, framing it so that the other would know a question was to follow. “Is there a more complex, and I would assume more advanced, form of the Delving Weave? Something, perhaps, that either provides more information or a more precise version of it?”

Gareth felt when the other man seized the source and then watched with a meticulous eye as he made the net. He did so with aptitude, although Gareth knew this was not the most difficult of weaves. Still, it was promising, but unsurprising if the younger man's reputed skills in Healing were certain. The two talents did not always go hand in hand, but often did.

"Yes," he replied. "There is an advanced version, although we will not be working on that today. We must walk before we can run." He paused and then went on, "For now, I'd like you to Delve me and tell me what those threads of Spirit tell you." He knew what could be found. The Asha'man was in good health, although had a slight bruise hidden in his hairline from where a shorter person didn't anticipate his passage.

Even deep within the fight that was seizing and controlling Saidin, Caddoc was able to give the barest of lifts to one brow when he was told that he needed to ‘walk before he could run’. How many times had he heard that old antigen…? He would have sighed, had he been the sort to be able to translate mental frustration into any sort of an expression. As it was, the lift of his brow was all he could make himself show. The wall between his mind and his body was, as always, impassible. For a moment he was silent, watching his Weave move, aware of Gareth’s eyes upon him.

The Weave shifted up and down the dummy for a moment as he simulated the motion this same Weave would take on a human being, tracing the wooden lines of the body, ‘learning’ all that it could. His hypothetical hand was steady and calm, and the expression on his face was every bit as calm, focused as he watched the dummy, not the man standing watch next to him. It was simple, child’s play, really. “I will abide by your decision, Gareth Asha’man.” He said, in that monotone that was his speech, as he worked. “But I feel as if your caution is wasted in this case. Perhaps on someone else it would be warranted, but I suppose I can understand why you must treat all Dedicated as if they are imbecilic infants holding explosives in their clumsy hands…”

Removing the Weave from the dummy, he let it dissolve before turning his attention to the Asha’man himself. For a moment he gazed at the man, and then he rewove the threads. Unlike many Channelers, his fingers did not move, his eyes did not flicker, he gave no sign that he was Weaving as he did so. His father, and the man his father had often brought in to ‘teach’ Caddoc, had beaten that obvious weakness out of him from the day he first tried to Chanel. The net lifted under the instruction of the younger man, and he allowed it to settle carefully into Gareth Asha’man. His touch was deft and almost gentle, a strange difference from the way he acted or spoke. For a moment he was quiet, digesting the information he found. It was fascinating, the feel of the other’s vitality now a fact in his mind. “You are quite healthy.” He said finally, taking on the air of a man studying something interesting, speaking almost with a detached manner, more fascinated by the results than by the living, breathing person producing them. “You must take quite a bit of care in yourself to be so. It seems that other than a bruise beneath your hairline, this Weave shows me nothing that can be considered worthy of my attentions.” He lifted his eyes to Gareth’s for the first time since he had begun to work on him. In his gaze was that hot intensity again, showing the fight with Saidin that took every second of a male Channeler’s attention. “Since I am already seizing Saidin, do you wish me to Heal it? The positioning of it makes the likely hood of a headache later quite high.”

Gareth waved a hand in an economical gesture of dismissing. "No need," he said. "It serves as a reminder to look up before I walk past cabinets in the infirmary." If he was serious or in jest could not be told. He did not reply to the comment about how he must treat all Dedicated, because he was Asha'man and did not have to justify his choices to this young man.

"This has been a good start. You may continue to your day's other lessons, but you will meet me at the infirmary the day after tomorrow to continue your training." He nodded to the door. "You are dismissed, Dedicated. Enjoy your day."

OOC: Continued in Delving Lessons, Part Two