Fanfic:Segade and Saidar
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Rhiale frowned.
She sat cross-legged in the dry and cracked dirt, her voluminous algode skirt protecting her skin from being burnt from the heat of the earth, her lengthening honey hair – now long enough to stick out at irritating angles – was held back by a white scarf. It might have looked odd to anyone who was not Aiel, but this was the life of a Wise One Apprentice. There was honor to be had in wearing the brown skirts, loose blouses, scarves, and thin shawls. She would have preferred the honor of the cadin'sor, but the garb of a man was not for women unless she was a Maiden, and Rhiale had put down her spear. The tail at the nape of her nape had been sliced away after she had realized that she owed toh; she had kept the tail as a symbol of who she once was, and Chiari said that she had to put her life behind her. It had disgruntled her to remove it, but repaying toh was not meant to be easy.
She did not want to be a Wise One, not any more than she had wanted the infinite possibilities of her future to be laid out to her in snippets and flashes of faces and mistakes. But as she could learn to channel, she had little choice in the matter. Honor bound her. The fogged city of Rhuidean had only made her dig in her heels: she wanted it less, but was resolved to push herself more.
"Surrender?" She asked finally, putting her displeasure to words, and shook her head slightly. "I do not understand." Chiari stared at her flatly, blue eyes glinting with what seemed to be amusement.
"This is not battle. It is embracing. You cannot control saidar any more than you can control another human. You can only guide."
The frown deepened. It seemed to her that Wise Ones did control the One Power – they called lightening and fire whenever they pleased.
"You think I would mislead you." The amusement slipped from Chiari's eyes, replaced by flint striking steel. Rhiale recoiled internally; she would not dishonor Chiari in that manner, not ever. Aiel did not lie. But whether or not she had intended it, she owed toh. She blinked once, stood and gathered her skirts above her knees, and took off at a headlong run. She lapped around the camp six times, not slowing her pace, and only returned to Chiari once sweat dripped between her shoulder blades and her lungs burned. She returned to her place on the ground, and Chiari continued her lecture as if no injury had been done.
"You must meditate to embrace. It will take time, and it will not be easy, but once you have learned, you will not forget. Close your eyes." Rhiale listened and shut her eyes, and focused upon her other senses. The air was hot and dry, parching her throat as she breathed, and Chiari's voice was smooth and solid, strong as bedrock. "Imagine yourself as a segade. You are small, weak, and shriveled beneath the sun. Your blossoms are faded and wilting. In order to survive, you must reach for water."
Rhiale tried to imagine herself as the leathery, prickly plant, but with some difficulty. She was a human being, after all, not an inanimate succulent. But Chiari's detailed description was no small help: as she continued, Rhiale found that it was easier to imagine. "The sun beats down upon you. There is nothing for you above ground. You must reach below, Rhiale. Let your roots stretch. They will creep slowly, at first, but you must reach for the water underground." Rhiale concentrated, her pale brows furrowing, and focused intently. This seemed more than a little outrageous to her, but Chiari had made her point earlier: she would lie nor mislead her apprentice.
"Dig, Rhiale. Burrow through the earth, accommodate your path for rocks you encounter, and seek water. Seek life." Chiari paused for a moment, and Rhiale's frown deepened. Without her narration, her task was a great deal more difficult. "Have you found it?" Rhiale shook her head. Chiari tsked. "This will take a little more imagination than I think you are accustomed to using."
Months passed at an agonizing pace. Days stretched and lingered with meaningless chores and physical exertion that pushed even her limits. When she had been a Maiden, at least she knew that she was growing and developing as time passed; as a Wise One Apprentice, it was like she was trapped in stasis. She had learned a little of herb-craft and a little of clan politics; it seemed that she had a knack for predicting bloodshed, which came in handy for planning tactical maneuvers. Rhiale credited it to her days spent as a warrior, and did not bother to stamp the pride from her voice whenever her opinion was asked.
But that was only a small mercy – otherwise, she lead a boring, worthless existence, fetching and digging holes whenever she was too slow to fetch. Rhiale did not quite hate it, because she owed toh, and there was no honor in wallowing in one's fate, but she did not enjoy it. Rhuidean's grey-rings told her too much to remember anything distinctly, or to precisely say why she knew it to be true, but Rhiale knew that she needed to become a Wise One in order to find meaning and purpose, and that it was possible for her to do it.
She tried not to ground her teeth as she reminded herself of this, meditating in the sun. Sweat ran down her spine, and her pale blouse stuck to her skin. Every day for the rest of her life, she was to do this for two hours, until otherwise instructed by Chiari. She was a cursed segade, reaching for water where there was none to be had.
Breathe in…. hot, dry air filled her lungs, and she held it to the count of six. Breathe out…. she exhaled forcefully out of her mouth for four counts, and kept up the pace. She focused on the mental image of a shriveled succulent, weak and small, and willed it to reach for the river that supposedly ran far beneath their feet. It didn't seem to budge.
She muttered a curse beneath her breath, opening her eyes for the space of a heartbeat. Chiari was tucked away in a large tent with a small group of Wise Ones, and they spoke too softly for Rhiale to discern what was being said. They were not paying attention to her, at least; she had earned enough of their respect to be left to her own devices when it came to meditation. Chiari's guiding voice had been a great help, for a while. But soon, it had become a reminder of her inability to find saidar, which brought her more shame than she wanted to consider. And how could she repay that toh? She had been yanked from her sisters because of this blasted ability, and even after months of trying, she could not even begin to access it.
Chiari had assured her with a wry, knowing smile that it would take time. But it shouldn't have been taking this long; it had not taken her this long to learn how to use her short-spear, or this long to build endurance or resolve. And it was taking her endless days to learn how to properly sit and pretend that she was a segade? Someone had a very cruel sense of humor. It was likely Chiari. With an irritated huff, she blew her bangs away from where they fell across her eyes, and tried to remind herself to focus. She would only move forward once she had mastered the segade.
She returned to her task like a Blacksmith did to an anvil, and continued to hammer her way through embracing.
"You will not find saidar like that, Rhiale." She opened her eyes lazily. The fiery-haired Wise One stood before her, smirking down at her. "You need to relax."
"What am I doing wrong? I am relaxed."
"You aren't," Chiari insisted, "It is more than following instructions and striking a target. It is a state of being." Rhiale stared up at her silently. She couldn't will herself to be a shriveling desert plant any more than she could will herself to be a Maiden once again. She was stuck, as she was, and no amount of willpower would change that. "Not even I can embrace if I am too concerned with my obligations." Color flooded Rhiale's cheeks. Publicly speaking of toh was nearly as bad as asking if she owed any. Chiari tsked, as if her point had been proven, and moved to sit beside her.
"Clear your mind."
"I can do that," Rhiale said, irritation touching her voice, "But how do I make it stay clear?" "You can't make it do anything. That is your problem. You're too forceful. I told you that saidar can only be guided – and if you can't even guide your own mind, you will never find the True Source." Chiari's words left a sour taste in Rhiale's mouth. She felt her brow pinch together into a scowl, but was careful not to direct it to the Wise One.
"Try again. Guide your mind towards stillness. Attempting to force it there would be like trying to force a man to flirt." Ah, finally – something she understood. She nodded. Chiari seemed to see the spark of recognition in her pupil's eyes, and continued with the metaphor. "Saidar will not lay a bridal wreath at your feet."
Rhiale closed her eyes, careful not to squeeze them, and breathed slowly. One at a time, she herded her thoughts away, rather than attempt to maintain an ironclad grasp on stillness, and once she had quieted her mind enough, she politely asked the segade to return. It did slowly, shimmering in and out of existence in her mind's eye, and she tried to remain patient. The roots stretched and reached as she continued, trying to fluidly move rather than chip away towards her goal. Any time she forced, it vanished, and she had to start anew, but… At least she knew that it was not pointless, now.
She could not be sure how much time had passed when she finally felt something change. Warmth flooded her fingertips; it felt as if something within her had ignited, and now flames danced jovially. She felt herself grin, and was not bothered by the display – she might have looked a fool, grinning with her eyes shut, but she felt content in spite of that. It faded nearly as quickly as it had come, but when she blinked her eyes open, Chiari was smiling as well.
"That was saidar."
A few weeks after she first touched the Source, Rhiale was able to channel nearly on demand. Chiari had her use it for everything she could; stumbling blindly with threads of different elements, she boiled water for steam tents, used threads of Water to soften the hard-packed earth so that she could dig her holes deeper, and created little balls of light and bounced them from hand to hand to practice dexterity. Anything she could think of, she was to try – as long as she was properly supervised –and much to her surprise, Rhiale enjoyed working with the One Power.
Perhaps she might enjoy being a Wise One, as well.
