Post by Cirus on Aug 24, 2020 20:00:00 GMT
Cirus silently listened as Dena answered his question, and then continued to talk on. This was definitely a shift in tone that he hadn’t expected, especially given his initial task from the Tsorovan Mhael. He picked at his food as she answered, trying to think of if he had anything to add. Books had been a struggle for him, he’d been forced to learn two things upon coming to the tower in a very short amount of time, how to read, and how to channel. While channeling had been exhausting at least he could manage it after enough failures, reading had been another matter. No matter how many times he failed or had gotten angry at the letters they would not make more sense to him.
“I can understand your frustration, feeling like you are left on your own is never something that anyone wants to endure.”
He tried to keep his tone neutral, and he could only hope that he did so as he spoke. Her plight reminded him of his own before life at the Black Tower. How he’d had almost no one he could turn to and those who showed him a kindness one day might kick him out of the way the next. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience but at least he’d known the city he was stuck in. The tower was intuitive enough when you knew it, the rigid lines and streets all leading to one place or another in a way that made getting around relatively quick, but if you didn’t know where you were going it could be impossible to find anything.
“I’ve been here for a little over five years now, though I do understand your concern about finding your way around. As for becoming ASha’man…”
How much did he want to share? Did he want to tell her about his past? About all of it? No, not all of it. She was being honest but he didn’t need to burden her with that. He could answer her questions, but he wouldn’t bombard her with his past. Too many had looked on him with a look of pity when he explained it, and he was tired of being pitied.
“I didn’t even know I could channel until I was almost 14 years old, and my mother had told me tales of … well now as I understand it they were tales from before the last battle. Yet I found a home here, and I have yet to regret my decision. It feels good to have a purpose, and to be useful.”
He smiled as he said that last line and dug into his food. His mind was briefly cast back to Saldea, as terrified as people had been during the raid when some had seen him they would have a look of hope or relief on their faces as they made their way inward. As terrified as he’d been rushing to the walls he’d been bolstered by that. He knew he had to fight because if he didn’t then others would die in his place.
He looked back up after swallowing his food, trying to meet the young woman in the eyes as best as he could. It was harder without something else to focus on, especially since he was supposed to be spying on her. Yet he somehow managed it, or at least he hoped he looked like he was managing it.
“What were you sent to learn? I can’t imagine your family sent you here because they thought you were a danger to them the way I thought I would become.”
“I can understand your frustration, feeling like you are left on your own is never something that anyone wants to endure.”
He tried to keep his tone neutral, and he could only hope that he did so as he spoke. Her plight reminded him of his own before life at the Black Tower. How he’d had almost no one he could turn to and those who showed him a kindness one day might kick him out of the way the next. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience but at least he’d known the city he was stuck in. The tower was intuitive enough when you knew it, the rigid lines and streets all leading to one place or another in a way that made getting around relatively quick, but if you didn’t know where you were going it could be impossible to find anything.
“I’ve been here for a little over five years now, though I do understand your concern about finding your way around. As for becoming ASha’man…”
How much did he want to share? Did he want to tell her about his past? About all of it? No, not all of it. She was being honest but he didn’t need to burden her with that. He could answer her questions, but he wouldn’t bombard her with his past. Too many had looked on him with a look of pity when he explained it, and he was tired of being pitied.
“I didn’t even know I could channel until I was almost 14 years old, and my mother had told me tales of … well now as I understand it they were tales from before the last battle. Yet I found a home here, and I have yet to regret my decision. It feels good to have a purpose, and to be useful.”
He smiled as he said that last line and dug into his food. His mind was briefly cast back to Saldea, as terrified as people had been during the raid when some had seen him they would have a look of hope or relief on their faces as they made their way inward. As terrified as he’d been rushing to the walls he’d been bolstered by that. He knew he had to fight because if he didn’t then others would die in his place.
He looked back up after swallowing his food, trying to meet the young woman in the eyes as best as he could. It was harder without something else to focus on, especially since he was supposed to be spying on her. Yet he somehow managed it, or at least he hoped he looked like he was managing it.
“What were you sent to learn? I can’t imagine your family sent you here because they thought you were a danger to them the way I thought I would become.”
