The Birds and the Breaks [fanfic]

[Chris]

The night fell over Hama Valon. It was getting late, and Murdock knew he had to head back soon. But first, he had to finish what he had started in the quiet corner of the city, a small garden. Not the one he had been interrupted at by those bloody Aes Sedai, a new place, a better place, away from prying eyes. They would only judge him.

Spirit and Air, with Fire. That burns the blood. But too much Air and the veins split open... Murdock sat on the grass with his legs crossed, the bird in front of him. He turned it over in his hands, shaking his head at the open wounds beneath the shaved off feathers. Better than the last one, but not good enough. Not controlled enough. He needed more practice.

It was a lot easier to deal death than it was to attempt to Heal these birds. With Healing, even delicate weaves were too much for them to handle. With Rending, the end result was normally the same. Light, it was the journey to this end point that was the exciting part, but Murdock needed to make sure that he had full control over it. He was a long way from that. He knew it, and so did Giselle.

She sat next to him, her own legs crossed as she studied him. He ignored her, what with his channelling. He had to concentrate and her expression was such a distraction sometimes. “Shhh,” he spared for her.

“These birds are innocent,” Giselle said.

“These birds are the eyes of the Dark One.” But they weren’t crows and they both knew it. He had to practice though. If he tried it with humans it would not go well, unless there was a way to make them forget afterwards. With no skill at helping people forget without actually killing them, Murdock simply left people alone unless that was his goal. No matter how much he itched to give it a real try some time, in a more controlled setting. That farmer was an accident. His wife, less so. That Seanchan Soldier, man, that was a real rush. He could feel it now, the man’s whole body burning from the inside as his blood boiled. Murdock wanted to travel those veins towards his heart, grip it with Spirit and give it a twist, just to see how it would make someone act. Why, the mere thought of it was enough to kill a bird, they were less hardy than people. Still, it didn’t stop Murdock from trying.

This could be attested to by the small pile of dead birds nearby. The heart of a bird was quite disappointing to see when sat in his red hands. It was so small and pathetic, nothing romantic about hearts at all. And of course, a different shape to how doe-eyed girls usually depicted them.

But this was all about getting to the heart of the matter, wasn’t it? There was a sense of righteous irony in breaking these animals to find out how Rending really worked. It was so similar to Healing, but at the same time the rush it brought was similar and yet completely different as well. The two fit together, but didn’t. He could see why people didn’t tend to use it, Murdock hadn’t meant to fall upon it at first, but practicing in this manner was certainly helping.

Alas, this bird was the last for the night. Murdock tossed the body on the pile with the others, and wove a weave of Fire strong enough to burn the pile to a crisp. The smell made his nose itch, burning flesh and bones and organs. Similar to cooking chicken, but at the same time foreign, corrupted and disturbed. Murdock smiled and looked down at his red hands, going to clean them before realising he was still holding this bird’s heart. Chuckling, he tossed it onto the fire. Whoops, no need to carry that back home with him. Perhaps it is time to find a new place to practice. But Giselle would always follow him, no matter where he went. The small pile of birds turned to ash, ash he buried away, where it would fester below the ground.

Murdock was satisfied as he returned to the Tower, but he knew that ultimately, training with birds was not going to be enough. How else could he learn? Something to ponder on a rainy day, he supposed as he cleaned his hands in the first fountain he saw. The redness washed away with the water, and with it his guilt at what he was doing. Not that there was much for the man to feel bad about, but this process was still spiritually cleansing.