Who's the real beast?

[Cirus]

Early morning chores always seemed simpler than the evening ones. Perhaps it was because he preferred the early morning quiet to the evening chaos, or perhaps it was simply because no one bothered you in the morning with several inane questions. Either way the quiet of the morning allowed Cirus a moment to look outside the stable doors at the early morning light. The sun wasn’t completely in the sky yet, so many of the horses were still sleeping, as were the



Stable duty wasn’t Cirus favorite chore, he much preferred the roaring fires of the smithy where things would be created. The smell of the forge, he weaves of fire and air to move the iron, to mix it within the heat and build it upon the smoke. The look as it was heated and forged into steel… Did he see a little bit of himself in it? Maybe. Maybe it was because no one asked questions in the forge, or the people who came only stayed for a minute and didn’t pester about how much care had gone into their blade. Horses were different, everyone had their favorite that had to be looked after just so, what’s the big deal? They were just animals after all, little different from the cows and goats that were looked after in the yards.



He was grateful none of the full brothers could read thoughts, he knew there were a few that would have skinned him alive for even thinking that. Shadowfax and Roach’s owners in particular would have stern words for likening their prized horses to the same animal that gave the tower its milk and leather for belts. Cirus didn’t claim to understand it, but at the same time he would not question it. He’d never been allowed to have any kind of pet as a child, but he’d heard some of the younger recruits who came from homes with pets talk about how much they missed them.



As he finally stepped into the stables he looked around, the horses themselves were all rubbed down and well kept. He couldn’t say if that was because of the work of their caretakers or the man on stable duty the night before. Either way it was one less thing he had to worry about, so he set to work. Embracing the source and grabbing the old and nasty straw to be burned just outside, he threw the straw into a pile in a burning area, he would deal with it later. Turning back he noticed that he wasn’t alone in the stables.

[Sorin Shirega]

Sorin gave Midnight's neck one last pat, dread rising in him at the thought of having to leave his horse behind to face the day ahead. Since he'd arrived at the Black Tower only a few weeks ago, he'd learned to wake himself early in order to visit the horse every morning. Without that little bit of normalcy, he was sure he wouldn't have been able to stand life here for even as much as a day. With it, Sorin still found himself wishing every day that he could just hide in Midnight's stall, avoiding the truth of the thing he'd become and the terrible power inside of him. His feet dragged through the fresh straw beneath them as Sorin forced himself to open the door and get started on the chores he'd been assigned for the morning.

Work wasn't something that bothered Sorin, especially not work in the stables, familiar tasks he'd been doing for years. What slowed the Soldier's pace as he moved to the stall beside Midnight's was that he'd have to use the One Power to do it. That was the rule, even though he'd be far more capable, and much faster, with his own two hands. Sorin shuddered as he opened the door, watching the white mare within twitch her tail. Walking in, he let the door close behind him. With a deep breath, he slid his left hand underneath the fabric of his coat and pinched the skin on his arm. It hurt, of course, but it made sense to Sorin that it should. Channeling was dangerous. Channeling made him unsafe to be around. Why wouldn't it hurt to be such a threat to others?

Sorin sighed, now able to sense the force that was saidin, hovering somewhere just outside of himself. To reach and draw it in seemed like utter madness, but he had been told it was the only way he'd ever learn to control it. Trembling, Sorin seized the small amount that was all he could handle and gave his arm another pinch. With a thin thread of Air, he began to gather the dirty straw that was scattered on the floor.

When he'd done that, he left the stall to dump the straw outside, and that was when he noticed the other man in the stables. Another Soldier, another male channeler. His own ability scared him, and to be around others with it, men who could probably set him on fire if they wanted, was something that continued to terrify Sorin. He flinched, startled, completely losing his hold of saidin. The thread of Air uncoiled, the straw dropped to the ground, and for a second, Sorin froze with fear, not knowing what the uncontrolled strand of the One Power would do. It faded away harmlessly, but he didn't feel relieved.

What he should do, Sorin knew, was to just stay put, ignore the other man, and clean up the mess he'd just made. What he actually did was turn and flee, past the stalls, to cower in a corner of the stables that was as far from the other Soldier as he could get. He huddled there, shaking, green eyes nervously watching the man.

[Cirus]

Cirus heard the doors open, and he felt the presence of someone holding Saidin behind him. He paid it very little mind, it was likely another soldier who had been assigned to the stables that morning, or maybe a Dedicated or Asha’man coming to check up on their prized horse. He never understood the attachment to the animals, but then again he’d never had an animal of his own to worry about.

It wasn’t until he heard the doors slamming open that Cirus caught note of the other man, he turned just in time to see him running back toward the stables. Cirus muttered a curse and chased in after the other man, whatever happened it must be urgent for him to have darted in like that. Cirus hoped it wasn’t something dangerous like a fire, between the two of them they might be able to hold that back, but he doubted they could get the animals out AND save the stables if that was the case.

As Cirus burst through the door he looked around for smoke or fire, there were none. There were only the stables. The horses hadn’t moved, none of them seemed any more twitchy from usual. There was one additional horse, Cirus didn’t recognize it as having been there. It had moved to an empty stall, one that he’d planned to work on next.

Cirus looked around the stables, it was then that he noticed the other man who was there. He wasn’t holding the One Power, he wasn’t trying to cheat the labor by working his hands. It took Cirus a moment to realize what he was doing. He was cowering in the corner with a look that Cirus knew all too well.

Cirus sat down where he was, letting go of Saidin. He tried to cast his mind back to how Gareth had spoken to him when he had cowered in the streets of Caemlyn. Calm and strong, warm and friendly. No disappointment, no ice that came with reaching out to grasp the one power. He took a deep breath as he tried to emulate what the Crown Prince had been that day, now what seemed to have happened in another lifetime.

“I won’t hurt you brother.”

He tried to make his voice calm, he’d heard of some who came to the tower afraid of the men who could channel. He knew that he himself had been terrified traveling back to the tower, if not for Rhian and Gareth coming with him he may have broken and tried to flee the first week here.

“Are you hurt?”

[Sorin Shirega]

Sitting down on the floor, Sorin hoped the other Soldier would just go about his share of the chores and let him be. As the other man came closer, Sorin's head dropped, and he fixed his eyes on a worn board near the spot where he sat. He scooted further into the corner, pressing his back against the wall behind him, and tried not to think about what the Soldier might want with him. The floor beneath him shook as Sorin felt, more than saw, the other Soldier sit down. The Tai'Seanchan man shivered, half expecting a blow or worse from the One Power, despite that he couldn't feel saidin raging within the man across from him.

His eyes remained on the floor even as the man spoke. Animals like Sorin did not deserve to meet anyone else's eyes, even those of others like himself. His voice was calm and sounded almost understanding, but the words he spoke did hurt. You're not my brother. He had only one, who he could never see again, and the ache of missing Stelan was not something Sorin wanted to deal with in front of anyone else. He turned so that he was sitting sideways in the corner and leaned his forehead against the wall. Squeezing his eyes shut, Sorin took a breath while he struggled to regain control of himself.

He swallowed hard, and several more breaths followed that before the surge of pain and loss began to fade. Sorin opened his eyes and blinked, but otherwise, the Tai'Seanchan man didn't move. He could vaguely remember the other asking him a question with what had sounded like genuine concern, something Sorin had experienced very rarely in this place where he'd forced himself to come. He shook his head in a belated answer. He wasn't hurt, at least not in the way he thought the other Soldier meant. Hurting, yes, but there was nothing anyone else could do to change that.

[Cirus]

Silence, but Cirus supposed he should have expected as much. He didn’t know this man, he didn’t know his past. Men came from the black tower from all over, some were eager to join an uncle or a brother who had come to the tower years ago, some were born here and had spent their whole lives around the tower and the one power. Then there were men who had been like he was, men who had been terrified of what they had become.

He waited, but the man didn’t respond. He didn’t look up either. Cirus wracked his brain about what he could do to help. What could he do to show the man he meant no harm? Perhaps simply moving away? Leaving him for a moment to calm himself… Could he calm himself? Could Cirus help him calm down somehow? He didn’t dare touch him, lest the man react violently.

Cirus considered just walking away, letting the man get a grip of himself and then talking when he was comfortable. Perhaps that was best? It hardly seemed the proper thing to do. He cursed himself silently, Gareth would know what to do. Rhian too. He had nothing. He hated the idea of leaving the other man here in fear, but what other choice did he have?

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

[Sorin Shirega]

Minutes passed, and Sorin raised his head, though his eyes still studied the stable wall. He could not allow himself to look anywhere else. Fear continued to fill him, fear of the other man, for all that he seemed to mean no harm, and fear of what he, himself, could do with the One Power. Sorin didn't dare reach for it, but knew that he would soon have to if he wanted to finish his chore on time. The thought did absolutely nothing to calm his nerves. He was still shaking, braced against the wall, when the other Soldier asked what was quite possibly the last question Sorin would ever have expected to hear.

Surprise brought him to glance towards the other Soldier, very briefly, before catching himself and casting his eyes back down towards the dusty floor. He turned himself in the corner so that he faced the man, careful not to look up again. With a shiver, Sorin nodded. He very much wanted the other Soldier to leave. Sorin had no reason to trust him, and even less to trust himself. Knowing what he could do to others, what he had done, scared him even more than the thought of what the other man might do to him.

He did not think he would be able to go on if he somehow managed to hurt the other Soldier. He did not want to, but worried about what the force of saidin would do, if it would suddenly rush through him and strike regardless of whether or not he wished it. Very quietly, Sorin spoke in his soft, slurred accent.

"You shouldn't be near me. I'm dangerous."

[Cirus]

When the other man nodded, Cirus got up to continue his work. He focused on the straw in an empty stall and did his best to gather it with strands of air. Tedious, boring, and straining for his limited strength, but a necessary act. He understood it was just like practicing with his blade, He would never know what his full potential was if he didn’t push himself, and if he didn’t reach his full potential how could he protect those important to him from the threats the shadow posed?

“Most of us were, at some point or another.”

His own mind was cast back to the stories his mother would tell him, of how if he breathed a word of what she had done how the men in black coats would come and drag him off as a sacrifice to the dark one. He recognized it now for what it was, a scare tactic. Something that she had used to control and keep him quiet. The men here were all good men, men who fought against the shadow to stop innocents from being dragged off into the night by the fade’s and trollocs that populated the borderlands.

“I used to cook rocks to the point they would explode, but I learned to control it. That’s why you’re here, to learn to control it.”

Cirus continued with his work, focusing on holding onto the power. He was starting to feel a strain, which was new. Usually that strain would have come up almost instantly, this time it took a little while to appear. Good, his strength was growing, if only slightly. It was comforting, but still terrifying to think that at any moment he could over do it and burn out, or worse, kill himself. The other man was terrified of what he could do, Cirus could understand that, but he was more terrified of what would happen if he overreached his own strength.

“And once you can control it, you can turn it into something useful. Like iron in the forge, we can be made into anything.”

[Sorin Shirega]

At the sound of receding footsteps, Sorin moved his eyes towards where the other man had been standing. He was walking away, and while that was what Sorin had wanted, he hadn't expected the other Soldier to actually go. He dared to raise his head, looking towards the stalls, still able to hear the other man talking. He assumed the words were directed at him, there being nobody in the stables besides the two of them, but his talk of control made little sense to Sorin. It surprised the Tai'Seanchan man when he heard himself speak, quietly enough that Sorin wasn't sure he'd meant for his question to be heard.

"What if someone can't control it?" he asked from his spot in the corner. He spoke without looking at the other man. Though he had sounded sure of himself, Sorin wasn't sure he believed a word the man had said. Since he'd come here, the number of times he'd completely lost his grasp of saidin strongly suggested to Sorin that the control the other man spoke of was no more than a myth. He shook his head, wishing what the other Soldier had said could be true, but knowing it to be impossible.

A shiver ran down Sorin's back as he laid his hands against the wall and climbed to his feet. There were still quite a lot of stalls waiting for cleaning, and if he didn't force himself to do his share, Sorin didn't doubt he'd be punished for it later. The thought of the sort of punishment a male channeler might give him was probably the only thing that scared Sorin more than having to take hold of saidin again. Still standing in the corner, Sorin balled his hands into fists and dug his nails into his palms, then took a few deep breaths. Once he could sense saidin, he reached for it, filling himself with the small amount that was all he could hold, and still more than he wished he could.

It was like carrying a fire inside of himself, a completely unsettling feeling. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can let go, Sorin thought unhappily. Still nervous, he headed for the stall that was farthest away from where the other Soldier worked. He'd seemed nicer than so many of the others, even if he was still a channeler, and Sorin didn't want to hurt him.

[Cirus]

"What if someone can't control it?"

It was a good question, Cirus had often asked himself the very same. He’d learned to reach out during his block, to get himself so worked up that he had to use the power on something or he would scream in frustration and anger. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience, most of the time it forced him to relive painful memories. Back then getting control over the one power had seemed to be well beyond his grasp, and he’d asked the very same question to Rhian.

He didn’t want to think about how much he’d been told. He’d suffered aches and chills himself, but to never control the power roiling within you… it was said that would result in a death worse than anything that the nations of the land could put you through.

“It’s… not pleasant.”

That was an understatement, but how did he explain it? He didn’t want to think about how he’d gotten deathly ill when he was younger, it had been hell to suffer through, and it was a miracle of the wheel itself that he survived that time. He shuddered thinking about it, he knew what it was now, but it left him at the time almost wishing that he was dead.

“But from what I can feel, you already can grasp it. So it won’t kill you, so long as you maintain control over it.”

Surprisingly that was the part that didn’t give Cirus trouble. Fighting with the one power… he couldn’t call it easy, natural perhaps, but not easy. It was exhausting if he tried to hold it for too long on one specific task, but holding and fighting it. It reminded him of the brawls he would get into as a youth. The struggle felt similar. It felt good.

[Sorin Shirega]

To Sorin, the answer the other man gave to the question didn't make much sense. Of course it's not pleasant, he thought to himself. Nothing about this place is. Pleasant or not, he still had work to do. Digging his nails into his wrist, he got started, or at least did his best to try. Every moment he held saidin was a fight, forcing Sorin to struggle to pull the Air he needed, use it to gather straw, and haul it outside. It was dull, repetitive, frustrating, and frightening for him, and by the time he'd finished just one stall, Sorin was already tiring.

Knowing what he'd done wasn't nearly enough, the Tai'Seanchan man dragged himself to the next stall, letting its occupant into the one he'd just cleaned, and started the whole ordeal over again. Take threads of Air....pick up straw......drag it outside.... He felt a sharp pain building somewhere deep inside his mind, a different sort of pain than the pinches and scratches inflicted by his own hands. With a wince, Sorin tried to ignore it, struggling to retain control of saidin even while it seemed to recede from his grasp.

As he fought for control, Sorin managed to channel a thread of Air, but even that small effort left him exhausted. Pressing for more, trying not to let the One Power escape from him, only increased the intensity of the pain he felt, the source of which he couldn't quite name. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing only on not letting go, unable to even think of trying to draw more. The pain continued to lick at the edge of his connection to saidin, and Sorin gasped, recalling something he'd been told during one of his very first days here.

Never push yourself beyond what you can safely hold. You'll know you're close to your limit once attempting to draw more begins to hurt. If it does, release the One Power immediately........

Dire threats had followed that, warnings of continued agony and death that Sorin didn't want to think on for long. Scared by the memory, he abruptly let go of saidin. The thread of Air thumped hard against one of the wooden walls of the stall before dissolving into nothing. His pain had faded as soon as he'd let go, but Sorin still felt drained. He bent over, placing his hands on his knees. Now what am I supposed to do? His chores weren't anywhere near done, but while he could still sense saidin, he felt too tired to even think of reaching out for it again. Sorin sighed, wondering if it wouldn't have been better to just strain himself a little more and rid himself of this terrible ability forever.

[Cirus]

Cirus continued his work silently, the other man not responding to his comment. Maybe he was thinking on his words? Had Cirus chosen the right words? Had he simply made things more confusing? He worried it was more the latter. He’d never really questioned the use of the One Power, having arrived and already started channeling it never occurred to ask questions like ‘what if I can’t do it?’ For him this had been a new life, a fresh start, not something that should be avoided.

Cirus refocused on his own task at hand. The One Power was still raging within him, a fight to control holding him near the edge of his concentration. Lava like ice flowing around him, a raging blizzard that burned like fire just outside of that. Oddly comforting and at the same time terrifying. He could only guess what it was like for the other man, he wondered if his upbringing had anything to do with it? His accent seemed to hint that he wasn’t from the central lands at least. Could he be from the Seanchan lands? If so it would explain his belief that he was dangerous. Cirus had heard that the Seanchan were terrified of men and women who could channel. If the histories he had read were correct, they used to be treated like animals.

Suddenly Cirus felt the power sap out of the man, he turned on instinct, worried. He saw the other man with his hands on his knees. The other man certainly looked exhausted even from where Cirus was. He started to move over, the question ‘are you ok?’ almost off his lips before he stopped himself from moving closer. The other man had already run scared from him once, he didn’t want to trigger another panic attack like that. He knew what it was to be afraid, and he knew how dangerous that could be.

“Are you alright?”

He let go of his own grasp of the one power, he didn’t wish to scare the other man anymore than he already had. He wondered if there was a way to reach out to him, to get him talking? Maybe… but it could just as easily backfire. Not everyone cared to be friendly here, and the last thing Cirus wanted to do was drive the other man away with his own stories. Still, the alternative was letting him continue to be afraid. Cirus had lived that life… there were very few people he would wish that on.

“You know…”

His voice was timid, scared of what Sorrin’s reaction would be, but he couldn’t do nothing.

“.. I used to live only on the streets, terrified of the men who wore black coats. My mother had convinced me they were dangerous, them and the so-called ‘witches’ they worked with.”

It hurt to bring up those memories, but Cirus had to make Sorrin understand that he wasn’t dangerous.

“When I figured out what I was going through I was convinced they would kill me, or worse. That didn’t happen, and I was causing stones to explode. If I can learn to handle this, anyone can. What I’m trying to say is… you’re not dangerous unless you choose to be, none of us are.”

[Sorin Shirega]

At the sound of the other man's voice, Sorin flinched. He stood up straight, then moved to the corner of the stall in an attempt to put more space between them. He dared to look up, fearing that the other man was coming closer, but instead saw the other Soldier, standing a comfortable distance away as he continued to talk. Shrinking into the corner as far as he could, Sorin studied the dirt beneath his feet while he listened.

The rush of empathy he felt towards the other man took him by surprise, and Sorin had to remind himself to keep his eyes on the ground. He didn't understand everything that had been said, had never heard of anyone living on the street, but what Sorin did understand was the fear the other Soldier described. He did not have to imagine what that was like; he lived with it every day, a constant companion. He closed his eyes and shivered. No matter what the other man claimed, channelers were dangerous. He had proven that himself, the evening he'd fled from his home.

His back slid down the wall as Sorin allowed himself to fall to his knees. He tried not to remember the sense of power he'd felt, the thump of the thief's body striking against the wall, Stelan's gentle voice telling him to run....the knowledge of what he'd become. Bending forward, Sorin lifted his hands, resting his forehead against them.

"I....don't want to be," he said, his voice hesitant and quiet. "I'm....trying to learn." He paused, needing the other man to understand the threat he was to everyone around him, but struggling to make himself explain. Sorin swallowed hard and said,"I...I used the One Power to hurt someone." His voice dropped to a whisper as he continued, "I didn't mean to.......I don't want to do it again, but....I don't know how to stop myself."

His eyes stayed shut, his head down, and he laid his hands on his knees. Do you understand now? he wondered. The exploding stones the other Soldier spoke of were one thing, what Sorin had done was very different. He could only hope the other man would have enough sense to stay away from him and out of danger.

[Cirus]

“I….I used the One Power to hurt someone. I didn't mean to.......I don't want to do it again, but...I don't know how to stop myself."

Pieces were starting to fall into place. The drawl he had, the terror with which he’d reacted when he first saw Cirus, and now this little bit from his story. It was no wonder he was trying to scootch away from Cirus little by little, it was a wonder the young man hadn’t run the first night he’d been taken here. A few of the new recruits had similar stories of not being able to control the one power, but none had shown outright fear to another man who was channeling.

I… I don’t want to hurt anyone… I never wanted to hurt anyone.

He remembered his own words and the relief he’d felt as he uttered them to the Daughter Heir when she, Elaira and Gareth had tracked him down. He’d been scared, exhausted, hungry, and more than anything, tired. He hadn’t hurt anyone to his knowledge, but the thought that he could have hadn’t been what had scared him. It had been what would happen to him if he did. Here was another man who had hurt someone, and while Cirus couldn’t imagine the reason, he knew it couldn’t have been a bad one.

“I know it can be terrifying to think back on or consider what might happen if you never control it.”

He paused, trying to find the words. How did he convince him that he shouldn’t worry? Cirus had possessed the exact opposite problem as him coming to the Black Tower. He hadn’t been able to channel a lick without making himself so worked up he wanted to kill someone.

“But… but you were strong enough to overcome that. You’ll overcome this too. I’m sure. You’re not a bad man, I learned to spot men with evil in their hearts while on the streets. I can tell you’re not one of them. You’re the kind of man that we need here at the Tower.”

The words came surprisingly easy once he started talking. They also rang true into his own heart. How much effort he’d put into making himself more of a weapon, never having taken a life he’d never even considered what it might do to him. This fellow soldier had hurt someone, and it hung on him. Would that Cirus had the foresight to think this might be how he became.

“I’m Cirus, what’s your name?”

[Sorin Shirega]

The other Soldier's words, the attempt at encouragement, were the absolute last ones Sorin would have thought to hear. He sounded sincere, but combined with what the other Soldier had said to him earlier, the Tai'Seanchan man was left feeling very, very confused. Channelers were little more than animals, after all, and he had never expected any of them to be capable of wanting to help another being, much less that one would try. He opened his eyes, looking at his own feet. What the other man had said was all wrong, of course. He hadn't overcome anything, would not even be alive now if Stelan hadn't convinced him to come here. The thought of being the sort of man who belonged here almost made him feel ill. Sorin shook his head, sitting down in the straw and drawing his legs up against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around his legs, lacing his fingers together, and reminded himself to be careful. The other Soldier seemed to mean well, but he was still a channeler, who might turn on him at any minute. He couldn't forget that, not if he wanted to stay alive, and despite the constant fear that was now all life held for him, Sorin did not want to die. Lost in his own thoughts, he barely managed to hear the other man name himself and ask for his.

It should have been a simple question, since he certainly knew his own name. "I'm Sorin---," he started. Then he paused, struck by a truly horrible question he'd somehow managed to avoid facing until now. Do I have any right to use my family's name? The Light alone knew exactly what Stelan had told their parents, but Sorin was sure Stelan would have claimed that he was dead. Even the sorrow of losing a son was better than the knowledge of having raised a channeler. He would be dead to them, no matter what Stelan might have told them. It was almost too much for Sorin to bear.

He swallowed hard and unclasped his hands, bringing his hands up to cover his face. Mother...Father....Stelan.... It hurt to know that he was the cause of his parents' grief, the truth about him a terrible burden to the brother he loved. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. Not wanting Cirus to see his pain, Sorin struggled against it, leaving his head in his hands until the worst of it passed.

With eyes still on the ground in front of him, Sorin calmed enough to make a decision. He would continue to use the name of his family, the parents he still loved and the brother who wouldn't turn away from him. He took a deep breath and spoke again.

"I'm Sorin Shirega."

[Cirus]

"I'm Sorin Shirega."

It was a start, and more than Cirus would have expected to get out of someone as terrified as the other man had been. Hell it had been more than he’d given at times when he’d been terrified as a youth. He backed away a bit, as the other man still wasn’t looking him in the eye. This man wasn’t dangerous, no matter what he said, but he clearly didn’t want Cirus to be near him either.

Cirus wondered where that kind of fear could come from, his own mother had told him that the Asha’man and Aes Sedai were servants of the dark one. Yet he’d found out her own views had been extreme and outdated. Almost everyone in the westlands were at least understanding that the Asha’man and Aes Sedai were not orders sworn to work against the peace.

“Right, Sorin. It’s a pleasure to meet you, we should get these stables cleaned out.”

Cirus moved back to the task at hand, trying not to ask questions, or to push the other man to speak. He wanted to ask the man a dozen other questions about where he was from and what it was like. Having a last name and coming to the tower… it seemed so strange to not. It always made him curious about other families, and what a normal family was supposed to be like.