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[panfandomsandbox] change is in the wind
She sits at the table near the fireplace, sipping tea and reflecting on what she has learned in recent days.
In the world where she was born, the Dark One is also known as the Lord of the Grave, and is the one who holds power and sway over the dead -- and to an extent, death itself. Fortunately, Moiraine is experienced enough with Milliways to not draw instantaneous conclusions.
(The lessons learned from Anthy Himemiya will remain with her for the rest of her life.)
It had helped that she had seen nothing of intentional evil or the mark of the Shadow as she knows it when she had studied Harrowhark while channeling. It is nonetheless something that requires consideration, in case action of some sort becomes necessary.
The Aes Sedai has much to think about.
In the world where she was born, the Dark One is also known as the Lord of the Grave, and is the one who holds power and sway over the dead -- and to an extent, death itself. Fortunately, Moiraine is experienced enough with Milliways to not draw instantaneous conclusions.
(The lessons learned from Anthy Himemiya will remain with her for the rest of her life.)
It had helped that she had seen nothing of intentional evil or the mark of the Shadow as she knows it when she had studied Harrowhark while channeling. It is nonetheless something that requires consideration, in case action of some sort becomes necessary.
The Aes Sedai has much to think about.
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A hint of wryness enters her tone as she concludes, "That said, I have seen many who treat the Bar as something without consciousness, rather than as you have. I must say that I prefer your approach."
Moiraine shakes her head, dismissing the thought, then indicates the teapot and unused cups at the side of the table as she asks, "Would you care for tea, Master Wei?"
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He's already reaching for a cup and the teapot, shooting Moiraine a brief, inquiring look as he does. (Wei Wuxian's the younger of them, after all.)
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"Permit me just to touch it with warmth first, however --"
As she speaks, a faint corona of light appears around her, and a thread of fire-gold touches the teapot, causing gentle steam to rise from its spout. Moiraine glances up at him to ensure he takes no alarm from the sight as others have in the past, and as her gaze rests on him her eyes first widen, then narrow in intent scrutiny.
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His voice stays light, however, as he busies himself pouring a cup of tea. "Where I'm from, I was scolded once for cultivating so frivolously. All for want of a warm cup of tea in the morning! But Gusu Lan, their rules fill an entire boulder with calligraphy this wide." He pinches two fingers together to indicate. "I am glad to see others who don't behave so strictly."
He slides the cup across to Moiraine.
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Save for the heightened focus in her glance, nothing about her manner indicates anything but the same calm poise she has displayed so far. After a moment, the glow around her fades, and she curves her fingers around the cup he has placed before her.
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Ask Wei Wuxian how he knows!
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"Stones and silence are both a rigorous enforcement in their own ways, I suppose."
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"If I might ask, then, what is your sect? I am unfamiliar with the term as you have used it, although I presume it must be something like the clans and septs of the Aiel."
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"I was raised in Yunmeng Jiang," he says, "and called Lotus Pier home for many years. Nowadays I have no sect."
There is nothing left of the Burial Mounds, after all.
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No sect. If her guess is right, and sect affiliations in Master Wei's world are indeed similar to the structures and relationships among the Aiel, this is far from an insignificant admission.
Others might inquire as to why. Moiraine Sedai, born to House Damodred in Cairhien, a member of the royal family who chose not to take the Sun Throne and who no longer openly claims her family name, has no intention of doing so-- at least not at present.
"And you studied in Gusu Lan," she says, instead. "Cultivation, I might suppose?"
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"Where I was born," she offers, "the White Tower has been long believed to be the signal authority on such training. It is only in recent years that the teachings of other groups have come to be regarded as equivalent."
Which has been an issue of no small concern for the Amyrlin Seat - but given everything, there have been more important matters. Still, what it means to be Aes Sedai is clear and unmistakable, and will remain so.
"I should be interested to learn more about cultivation, as it happens," Moiraine adds. "When I myself channeled, you clearly recognized what I was doing as a use of power."
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He sounds cheerful enough as he puts down his teacup. (Now, how did they explain it to him when he was a young child?)
"A cultivator draws upon qi to perform their talents. It can be very easy to exhaust yourself if you rely solely on your own qi, so cultivators also strive to expand their skills until they have an always-burning crucible of energy to call upon. Is that where you pull your power from as well?"
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"The power that I channel is saidar. It is part of the One Power, drawn from the True Source, which is the very force of creation itself. The ability to channel and wield the power is inborn among those who become Aes Sedai, like myself, but the power itself is not. As one completes their training and is raised Aes Sedai, the amount which they can channel and hold may vary with their skill."
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Thoughtfully, he scratches the tip of his nose.
"No, that isn't quite like the golden core of a cultivator. It's not unlike it, though. Qi is spiritual energy, a life force -- maybe similar to this True Source of yours? But if I'm understanding correctly, a golden core would be as if you scooped up handfuls of the True Source and placed it inside yourself."
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"I have referred to the process of channeling as not unlike dipping water from a stream," she tells him, "but the power that is so taken is not held for long. Say, rather, that it is directed through, in a steady flow, to create the weave that is intended."
"But yes, if qi is power drawn from the force of life itself, it does sound similar."
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"We also have ways to draw water from a stream, as you say," he adds. "Take in energy from outside ourselves. But that is a skill rarely practiced."
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"Is it a skill that you practice?"
The emphasis on you is light, but clear.
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"It is," he says, smiling.
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"If such a skill is rarely practiced," she observes, tranquilly, "then one might presume that those who are able to do so are themselves skilled above and beyond that which is common."
One might, indeed. As always, each word that the Aes Sedai speaks is true, whether or not the meaning of the whole is what is heard by others.
She has not missed the way his glance has changed, but gives no outward sign of it.
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"As it happens, you are not the first I have known to pursue a difficult path of power."
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