The Grey Tower

Slate grey eyes narrowed warily at the Altaran for a long moment, his jaw flexing at where he was. Zeen tried not to stare at the Weapons Hall across from him, deliberately turning his attention away as brows lifted in an unasked question towards Jaryd. The long olive-toned fingers of the Asha'man gestured for the Amadician to move forward into the fenced off area that was separated from the rest of the Yards, the shorter man merely smiling in response.

That was utterly unhelpful.

Zeen did as he was directed, trying not to shift his weight as his boots sunk into the sand. He tossed the black coat that he refused to wear down onto one of the nearby posts where he could ignore it and pretend that it did not exist. With nothing else to do, he found his thoughts wandering, touching upon his marked improvement since that day with the... disturbance. His gaze darted to the Weapons Hall again.

The past few weeks had been spent in perpetual training, both mentally and physically. His control with saidin was still tenuous at best, Jaryd his patient and entirely too cheerful instructor. When the grey-eyed man was not working to bring the male half of the Source to heel, he was putting his body through the half-remembered forms of training, finding the repetition comforting. Within a few days, his muscles recalled the familiarity of motion and fluidity like the caress of an old lover, reveling in the way limbs and fists worked in tandem together.

The sun warmed the crown of his head. Each second that ticked by was excruciating. Finally Zeen could not stand it no more, turning to the Asha'man. “Why am I here?”

The other man barely looked up, attention fixed on his fingernails and the curved dagger that he carried with him everywhere. “You won't learn the difference between fighting with your hands and fighting with your mind unless you actually have to choose between them.”

“Wait, what? I am fighting? Who am I fighting?”

A finger lifted and Zeen turned to follow its path. Grey eyes found a third figure at the end of that gesture. Silently, the Amadician appraised the black-haired man that Jaryd indicated. Lounging indolently against the opposite end of where they stood, arms folded across his chest, the unknown man returned the favour, the blue of his gaze sweeping over Zeen from head to toe. Broad shoulders tensed, the scars across his back twinging in response.

“Jaryd, this is not a good idea,” the reluctant Soldier forced out between clenched teeth.

Dax's hands slapped palms-down on Jaryd's desk, and the burly Gaidin leaned forward, looming over the much smaller channeler without apparently realizing what he was doing. The Keeper simply sat back in his chair, face impassive save for a single eyebrow, arched up in orchestrated shock. "I will not," Dax said.

"Yes, you will," Jaryd said with a voice as calm and cool as a winter lake. "This man needs help, and you are in the unique position to provide it. There are others in the Yards who could help him, but none who would understand the anger I see boiling beneath his skin, nor care enough to help him deal with it.

"If you would get off my desk before you break it, Gaidin?"

The Tairen straightened with a muttered oath. "I don't spar with channelers," he said, "they cheat." For a moment, he saw something flicker across that olive-toned face, and Jaryd's steepled fingers slipped. He hid it by reaching for the knife stuck point first in his desk, but Dax had seen. Something about that upset him? Dax filed that information away, though for what purpose he couldn't begin to know.

"This one won't," Jaryd said, his voice oddly soft, and his eyes distant. "He doesn't want to. Besides, channeling is not the purpose of this exercise. I simply want you to face him man to man. See what he's capable of, and distract him from what he did or might do in the future, if only for an hour. He needs to learn that he can fight, perhaps even get angry, without blowing things up. I can't teach him that." The Asha'man paused, then added "I will be present, and if somehow he does lose control he will be on the ground before you can say 'shielded.'"

Dax released a long breath, realizing even as he scowled at the Keeper that he had already agreed to meet with this "Zeen" in his head, even if he fully intended to belabor the issue for as long as the Asha'man allowed.

---

Dax leaned against the fence on the outer limits of the practice yards, watching Jaryd and one of the largest men he had ever seen in his life approach from the direction of the Warder Hall. Zeen looked him over as fighters do, and Dax pursed his lips, his gaze taking in every perfectly sculpted muscle from feet to shoulders, ending on a face that he was certain women would swoon over even with the scar marring his forehead. As they drew closer he heard the larger man say “Jaryd, this is not a good idea."

"You didn't tell me I would be fighting the Black Tower himself, Asha'man," Dax commented without budging from his position against the fence. Jaryd gave him a flat look, and Dax's lips twitched upwards in amusement. He turned his attention to his newest pupil.

"You're Zeen, are you?" He asked. "I'm Dax. Gaidin if you're being formal, which I hope you aren't when we're rolling like children in the sand." He pursed his lips, and finally pushed himself to a full standing position. "The red man mentioned you might have been in the military, and that seems a fair guess. Do me a favor and tell me a bit about what you know about fighting, would you? I like to know which bad habits my students need to break." White teeth flashed, and his eyes sparkled with true humor.

Burn it all for knowing me far too well, Jaryd. Now he had seen the man, he was interested.

A hand reached up to rub at the back of his neck, Zeen rolling the opposite shoulder in the attempt to ease out some of the tension that clawed along his back. He was not sure what to make of Dax, but the blue-eyed man reminded him somewhat of Jaryd. Neither the Asha'man nor the Gaidin was at all what the Amadician had been expecting. The irreverence made his lips twitch.

“Bad habits?” His tone was mild as he answered in kind, but the gleam that suddenly appeared in grey eyes belied his amusement. “The only bad habit I had to break was being one of the Children. And I promise that I am well and truly over that.” Dax raised his eyebrows and Zeen grinned outright.

“Jaryd is correct in his assumption that I was in the military.” He purposefully did not look over to the Asha'man that was no doubt still paring down his fingernails with his dagger. At this rate, the Red would soon have none. “I do not much recommend making a career out of it, however. At least, not in Amadicia. The Fortress of Light is not known for treating those beneath it with benevolence or longevity. The pay is also abysmal and the working conditions leave much to be desired.”

Absently, he went to touch at the scar that slashed across his forehead, his attention turning inward. “As for what I know... I know... enough about fighting, I suppose. I learned how to use a sword as a boy, but only kept up pretenses with it for the last decade or so to please my father.” He held out his left hand, palm up, chin thrusting out to indicate the calluses. “I practiced just enough to keep those. The sword... never really felt right to me. And the forms... those names. The Hummingbird Kisses the Honeyrose makes me want to giggle like a girl.”

Dax threw back his head and laughed at that. Zeen bared his teeth a little in a semblance of a smile, shrugging.

“I found that I like fighting with my fists,” the tall Amadician continued. “But that sort of thing is frowned upon by someone of my 'lineage' or some such nonsense. So I learned where I could. Some taught me out of respect for my desire to learn. Others I had to bribe. A rare few tried to make life difficult for me with that knowledge, but they were convinced easily enough to leave Amadicia.”

The Gaidin's gaze became appraising again, the blue eyes measuring. “I'd like for you to show me. What did they teach you as your basic stance?”

Zeen blinked, his gaze shifting between Dax and Jaryd. In the span of time between one heartbeat and the next, understanding dawned on him and the breath left his body in a soundless sigh. Though his face fell into an impassive mask, the tall man glanced over at Jaryd with uncertain grey eyes. The Keeper's returning gaze was level and the reluctant Soldier grimaced faintly. He did not understand how the Asha'man could be so perfectly confident that there would not be another incident like the one that had occurred in the Weapons Hall. Zeen licked lips that had suddenly gone dry, forcing himself not to look at the building that he had leveled. Jaryd would stop me. He would... Light, focus on something else. Focus on something else.

He shook his head abruptly. Zeen moved swiftly, sliding his right foot forward, toe pointed ahead of him. His left foot turned, toe angled to the side. He lowered his body a little, settling his weight on legs that were balanced roughly shoulder width apart so that his body sat at an angle between his toes. He dropped his chin to his chest, bringing left fist up to cheek-level so as to guard his jaw. He tucked his left elbow in against his side to protect his ribs. His kept his right fist at chest level, shoulder lifted up to protect his ear and the side of his head.

And suddenly, he could breathe again, the world falling away as he met Dax's gaze, Zeen's mind humming with calm and clarity.

The only bad habit I had to break was being one of the Children.

Dax had not thought of his original reasons for coming to the Grey Tower in many years, but with that single comment, it all came rushing back. A pretty girl swayed through his memory; he whispered false promises as his lips brushed over a slender neck, every word chosen with one goal in mind. It had taken little effort to get her into his bed, and he had felt no regret for the lies he told when he left the next day. No regrets, anyway, until he found out the Children had put a price on his head for corrupting a Captain's daughter. Running had been his only option…running straight to the Grey Tower. Light!

This man had been one of them, but no longer. Jaryd had told him very little of Zeen's history, saying simply that some stories were not his to tell. Although it was obvious the soldier disliked his former profession, Dax struggled to conquer the judgment that had risen unbidden to the forefront of his mind. He is looking for safety the same way I was, Dax told himself, his internal tone brutal. A soft voice then whispered But how do you know he is telling the truth? He chose to ignore that one. It rarely did him any favors to listen to it. He had better things to do with his time.

Thankfully, the Amadician seemed to have a grasp of basic physical form.. When asked, he dropped into a middle guard stance without a word. Dax circled him curiously, sizing him up the same way he might any newcomer to the Yards. More interesting to the Gaidin than any physical appearance or position was the fact that as soon as the grey-eyed man's feet had shifted, the tension had dropped out of his shoulders, and his face had gone calm and clear. Some knowledge of the Oneness, or at least some method of obtaining peace, he noted.

He came to a stop in front of his student, facing him head on. "I won't insult you by asking any more questions about basics, it's obvious you have some grasp of that," he said cheerfully. "And if you don't, well- the only one who will pay the price is you. I'm rather more interested in seeing how you move, and how you respond in a fight."

He stepped back, his own body relaxing into a guard position. "Keep your punches light. If you hurt me, Light help me I will break your nose." He heard a muffled laugh, and turned to stare at Jaryd. The Asha'man sat on a fence post now, his face completely impassive. He flipped his long fingers at the two of them, and Dax rolled his eyes. "Let's go. Keep it slow, for now, so I can see what you're doing, and tell me what you know about the Flame and the Void."

Zeen's answer came slowly, one corner of his mouth lifting as Dax squared off opposite of him, the Gaidin easing into a similar guard stance. "The only thing I know about this Flame and the Void is what the Red Asha'man there says. It is used to help men learn how to channel."

Keep it light. Go slow. The Amadician stepped in to close the distance between them before he snapped his right arm forward, his fist aiming for the place between the other man's blue eyes. Dax brushed it aside with a casual parrying motion. Zeen had not expected the the blow to connect, but it was still good to see that that the shorter man was more than capable. He stepped back out, slate grey orbs watching the Gaidin warily.

"I am to picture a flame and to it, I am to feed all of my emotions. When there is nothing left, Jaryd says that that is the Void. I am to stay in the emptiness, letting it become my focus and when I do so, I will be better able to wield saidin." Broad shoulders lifted in a tight shrug, the reluctant Soldier mindful not to let the slight motion interfere with maintaining his guard. The Amadician advanced again. Another straight punch with his right, followed by a high hook from his left, an abrupt shift in direction and weight and his left elbow aimed down at the Gaidin's collarbone. Dax nimbly avoided all of the strikes, and Zeen backed away, unable to stop the way the corners of his mouth lifted.

"I can find the Void. I have difficulty staying within it." The admission was a painful one, but necessary. "When I lose it while channeling, it makes me dangerous." He said that as casually as he could, but a hot flash of guilt seared along his spine and he very deliberately did not look at anything but the Gaidin in front of him. "I was the one that destroyed the Weapons Hall." The words had barely left Zeen's lips before he struck out again, leading with an uppercut this time. A quick set of left-right punches, followed by a feint allowed him to shift his body, his left knee coming up towards Dax's torso. His thigh struck against the fleshy underside of the other man's forearms, his body pushing forward as his right elbow snapped up towards the Gaidin's face. Again, the blow did not land, but it did buy him enough time to adjust his balance and step back out of range.

"I do not know what Red hopes to accomplish with this, but..." Zeen smiled a little. "I am learning to only occasionally question him."

Asha’man used the Flame and Void to channel? Dax cocked his head to the side thoughtfully, interested despite himself. He had never cared to ask how it was that channelers were able to access their abilities, and yet…it made sense. Jaryd’s face had resembled golden-brown stone when he released Dax from his bond, and even Katrie withdrew when she touched saidar. Zeen continued to explain his experience with the Void, and amusement swirled through Dax’s mind at the taller man’s commentary on the Weapons Hall. Property destruction on its own did not bother Dax, however, the man-sized hole in the side of the building had been a little disconcerting.

The Gaidin settled into the ko’di as Zeen lashed out, blocking, parrying, stepping away, and turning in response to each attack, but making no move to go on the offense himself. The Amadician had reach, and he clearly had skill; however, there was an odd hesitance in his movement, a disconcerting interruption in the otherwise smooth flow from one blow to the next. Is he actually afraid of hurting me? He dismissed the thought as soon as it came to him. He’s thinking about it far too much.

With that in mind, the next time Zeen attacked, Dax ducked beneath the man’s arm and wove to the side, coming up behind his shoulder, one elbow driving back into the tall man’s ribs, spinning in the direction of the blow to deliver several sharp punches to Zeen’s ribs and back. Of course the soldier turned, and when he did, Dax went with him, ducking and weaving out of reach of the man’s arms, then ducking in for another solid blow to the man’s torso.

"Stop relying on your thoughts, and start relying on your instinct," he said as he ducked away from Zeen's counterattack, then spun in, arm unfurling to lay the side of his hand against the taller man's throat. Had he hit full-force, it would have crushed the soldier's windpipe. "Thoughts take time. Instincts do not. We can talk about how the Void helps with that when we're done here. You need it." He backed away, and squared off once more, tilting his head sharply to the side to crack his neck. "Let's go."

Zeen felt his irritation skitter along the edges of his mind as he and the brawny Gaidin squared off again. He would more than likely bruise in the places where Dax had struck him, though the blows to his pride were the ones the Amadician felt most keenly; it rankled that he could not quite seem to get it together.

He shook his head inwardly at himself and despite his best efforts not to, grey eyes darted to where the Red Asha'man sat, perched so very casually on the top rail of the fence. Zeen's brows drew together in a thunderous scowl and he forced his gaze back ahead. A muscle in his cheek twitched and he wiped suddenly clammy palms against the sides of his breeches. The caustic edge of his anger rose up from deep within him, resentment laying heavily across his shoulders as he glowered somewhere between Jaryd and Dax, suddenly feeling as if he was some helplessly struggling creature caught between two nets that he could not escape from.

The world jumped into ferocious clarity, and as the glory of the Light scorched at the marrows of his bones, rage turned into panic. Zeen froze where he stood, nostrils flaring. A thin, curling tendril of smoke rose from the black coat that he had so casually thrown onto a nearby post. Before the fire could consume him, however, the sensation of running head first into a wall came once again and he staggered back a half step. His surroundings immediately dulled.

"That is enough for today." Red's voice came, quiet and level.

From the corner of his gaze, Zeen could see Dax cock his head. "I..." he began hesitantly but clamped his jaw shut and fell into sullen silence. What was there to say? He had failed.

The Asha'man and the Gaidin exchanged words that the Amadician did not hear, the very tips of his ears bright red with shame. Perhaps the control that Jaryd sought for him to master was truly beyond him. They left the Yards behind in silence, Zeen staring down at his feet.

"You did well."

Grey eyes shot up to the smaller man's swarthy face. An easy smile from the Red Keeper answered the dubious look. "I did not last more than half an hour."

"That was half an hour where you did not lose control like you feared," Jaryd answered patiently. "When you are feeling up to it again, I think it would do you good to try and hit Dax some more."