Fire Dances (Fanfic)

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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"The Shadow Rising"
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Joined: January 25th, 2017, 5:14 pm

Fire Dances (Fanfic)

Post by Damon » June 14th, 2017, 3:05 am


Olin walked purposely through the walkways that led to the Channeling Yard. He had dreamed of a whirlwind, air and fire forging a clay horse into a statue of steel.

He felt that the dream was calling for him to work on his skills, to practice and hone what he was beginning to achieve competence in. His mind was also on the Citadel, there had been talk of an increase in pressure and raids from the Blight, and he knew he may well be called to help with the defence of the northern kingdoms.

To that end he found himself once more standing on the sands, but this time he bore the Sword Pin that allowed him to practice without fear.

Seizing Saidin, he fought the torrent of ice and fire, the waves that threatened to drag him down, and pulled out threads of Air and Fire. With practice he had grown far more skilled at weaving the One Power, four or five threads dancing where he had only been able to use two or three before.

With this skill, he wove columns of Air and Fire, the weaves smooth and precise as he completed them. A simple weave of Air protected his ears from the resulting wave of sound; as three bolts of lightning left scars of black on the sands.

After that, he wove threads of Fire, weaving together a ring of Fire that burned as he poured the One Power into the flames. This allowed a fire to burn without fuel, but as he held the weave he could feel the strain.

After pausing to drink, Olin began to spread a weave over as much of the sands as he could manage. It was a weave of Air and Fire, with loops of Spirit being added at the end. He could only cover an area as large as about four men abreast, and wide but as he tied the weave off he grinned in satisfaction. Soon balls of Fire fell from the weave, a stream of them like rainfall, falling within the area he had marked out by the loops of Spirit

Olin then dug the noted he had made during a class, where the instructor had made not of weaves that could affect an enemies footing. Several he had known would be little use to him, he wasn't strong enough to do a lot with the ground, and was too weak in Water.
But he had heard mention of a way to use Fire and Air to try and force the ground apart, and practicing that was his next goal.

Olin grabbed threads of Air, Fire and a few weak threads of Earth. Trying to press the weave through the ground, he kept striking the Earth into the sands and used Air to put pressure on the heated mixture. With a small spurt of heat, his weave created a small surge no more than calf high. As the weave dissipated, he saw a small column of glass and realized there had been little success.

Still his time at the Grey Tower had taught him perseverance, so he grabbed threads of the One Power once more and thrust them at the ground. This time he used Spirit to try and bolster his weaker Earth. The result afterwards was more impressive as molten sand actually sprayed from the ground, but the fatigue it caused wasn't worth the effort.

Knowing he was pushing his limit, Olin instead decided to work on his stronger skills. He knew how to weave Air as a wall, the weaves crowded together to catch attacks as they struck the wall.

The last skill he attempted was to chain the lightning into a ball. He had read Green Ashaman's reports on conbat, and many of them had mentioned the benefit of such a weave against infantry or large clusters of Trollocs.

In preparation, he grabbed threads of Fire and began to roll them into a small tightly packed ball. As he wound the threads tighter and tighter, he switched to Air and used that as a second coating of the One Power. As the weave snap into place, he used threads of Air to guide it forward, his deft handling of Saidin allowing him to guide one ball forward as he formed another.

The lightning snapped and crackled intensely, the threads of Air steering it ever so slightly until it struck the Wards surrounding the Channeling Yard. After a string of weaves were thrown, Olin released Saidin, the smell of ozone strong in the sands.
"Every man is the hero of his own song," Tad Williams.

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meble kuchenne na wymiar cennik

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