Weaves of the Past [Fanfiction]

When channelers need to channel and don't want to risk breaking the Tower into a million pieces, this is where they go.
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Weaves of the Past [Fanfiction]

Post by Jenny » March 27th, 2016, 5:22 am

Seonin lifted her white skirts and picked her way across the muddy grounds to the channeling yards. The early morning air was foggy and humid, causing beads of moisture to stick to her skin. No one else seemed to be around. As she approached the practice grounds, she peered through the haze and saw a vague figure emerge. Shaya Sedai of the Green Ajah was standing there, hands on her hips.

Seonin curtsied respectfully.

“Good morning, child,” said the Aes Sedai. “We talked about this yesterday, yes? You are here to demonstrate what you learned as a damane. Do not hold back. Show us what you know.”

Seonin nodded. I am not betraying the secrets of the Empire, she reminded herself. The weaves of the Seanchan were no secret to the Aes Sedai. After all, they had faced each other many times in battle. No, this was an evaluation of Seonin’s ability.

She calmed herself and closed her eyes, sensing the warm light of saidar hovering just outside her vision. A trickle of saidar flowed into her. Slowly, she surrendered herself to the light, drinking in the One Power. She felt her pulse quicken with the joy and warmth of saidar; but underneath, anxiety twisted her stomach. It was wrong, all wrong, to be using the Power without a sul’dam. She ignored the feeling and began to channel.

She started with her strongest affinity. With a few strands of Air, she created a gentle breeze that gathered the fog closer around the two women until it was so thick that she could not see Shaya Sedai, although only a few paces separated them. Droplets rolled across her skin like sweat, although it was merely condensed from the air. With careful threads of Air, she spun fog in controlled circles, creating interesting flurries that spun their skirts around their ankles.

It was a simple exercise, yet one that took utmost concentration. Air was a tricky Power to master. Faster, and faster, she spun, until the fog began to rise in a funnel. In battle, she would send the funnel spinning among the enemy, tearing soldiers from their feet and throwing them into the air. But for now, Seonin judged the weave too dangerous to continue and slowly returned the fog to its former stillness.

Her second weave was a complex web of Air and Water, formed with flows nearly as thick as her wrists. Around the channeling yards, the fog lifted to form a misty canopy above their heads. She added strands of Spirit, and even Earth, to the growing weave. As she worked, gaining momentum, the fog thickened into white, fluffy clouds. Within a few more seconds, the clouds turned dark and ominous.

The rain started as a soft drizzle. But as she sent intricate patterns of Air and Water twisting among the clouds, it began to pour. The raindrops pounded onto the ground, churning it into mud. Neither woman seemed to notice the water soaking through their clothes. Seonin's weaves captured all of her attention. Her large, dark eyes stared unblinkingly at her spinning threads of saidar, and her emotions were caught up in the joy of the One Power flowing through her. The Aes Sedai, like her brothers and sisters of the Tower, remained untouched by discomfort.

Shaya Sedai pointed at a wooden puppet, about a hundred paces away. Seonin changed her flows, adding flows of Fire with the Air. Electricity began to dance through the clouds. She directed it toward the puppet.

BOOM! With a roar of thunder, a bolt of lightning struck the puppet.

A sudden memory crashed into her mind. She bent over, retching. Saidar fled away, leaving only a sense of loss. The smell of burning flesh. Lightning, striking from the sky. The arrow piercing Anelle’s chest. Oh, Light!

She swayed, and her knees gave away. Shaya Sedai rushed to catch her as she fell.

“I am so sorry, Anelle!” cried Seonin. She collapsed against the Aes Sedai. “I tried to save her,” she sobbed. “I tried so hard.”

They both ended up kneeling in the mud, soaked to their skin. Seonin hunched over her knees, her head buried in her hands. Behind her closed eyelids, all she could see was Anelle’s pale face, beautiful even in death.

“I know,” said the Green sister. “You did your best, Seonin. I know you did.”

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