The Grey Tower

A long pause held between the two men, the only sound a rustling of leaves that seemed unnaturally quiet to Caedal's ears. He realized eventually that his mouth was agape like a fish. His face grew warm in embarrassment as he forced himself to speak. "I had not considered these things before," he began, "I suppose I've... I've not made as much a break with my past as I thought." Caedal's mouth grew dry as he continued to roll the Asha'man's words around in his mind, but he resisted his immediate instinct to remain silent. "I knew when I arrived at the Grey Tower that I would have to change to become Asha'man. I suppose I thought that the changes would come with-" Caedal's voice cracked, but he pressed on, "-with the training... not as a result of any sort of self-reflection."

The Soldier began to rub his hands together as if to ward off a sudden chill. He had always considered himself a confident person, but the more he thought back on his life the more he realized that that aspect of himself had always been a mask. No, not a mask. A prison. He had willed into being an image to present to the world and in doing so had walled himself in, all the while ignoring the person inside. "Self-reflection," he added, the hint of a smile on his face, "that I'm beginning to realize will extend beyond this meeting of ours, Asha'man."

Another long pause followed Caedal's proclamation, this one perhaps less awkward than the last. "Thank you for this, Asha'man, truly," he said. "I do not think I would have sought out this sort of help on my own, and I would have been worse off for not doing so."