Touching the Web [Sama'el]

[Ronan]

Sitting alongside Sam, Ronan put a hand to his head, not for the first time in his life feeling the fool.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I don't know what happened. It was stupid. A rookie's mistake."

Was his friend just promising to show him Webbing out of pity? If there was anything he wanted, it was not pity or sympathy. He was happy to sit and wallow in his pathetic state, but he could not bear the thought of Sama'el making false promises to make him feel better.

His head still felt a little cloudy. He scrubbed his hand through his hair, flicking it back with the sweat coating his scalp.

"Be honest," he began, "am I truly cut out for the Watch? Am I chasing something I'll never catch?"

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Your skills aren't where they should be," Sama'el said, still smiling, though gentler. Ronan was Drykas and had his pride. Sama'el understood that. If Sama'el was advanced for his age in any particular skill, it was only because he had been alone and cut off from his people, forced to survive with only Horse to help him. Necessity breeds a lot of things. "But you knew that. The Watch has its eye on you since you brought me that news of the would-be assassins, so they know you are alert and will bring information to the right place. Your skills aren't bad, but they need to be better to be a man of the Watch. You can get better, so that is just a matter of time and discipline. "As for your character..." He shrugged. "That's for you to decide, not me. Now do you want to see the Web or not?" Then he grinned.

[Ronan]

The Watch had been keeping an eye on him? Ronan listened to Sama'el's words carefully, though some of them surprised him. He was being stupid, and it was clear Sam thought as much. He asked too many questions, but did too little to fix his situation.

He cleared his throat, wiped his brow with his hand, then nodded at his friend with vigour. "More than anything. I'm being stupid... I'm sorry."

He stood up from the ground and stared into the distance. Beyond Endrykas lay rolling plains, and beyond that...? He thought to Sama'el's journey, northbound for ice locked Avanthal. A spark of jealousy plagued him, but it was duty that kept him here. This was his home. Surely he couldn't leave...?

He looked back to Sam, placing his hands and arms out, and probably looking like a fool. "Now... what do I do first?"

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"You have to stop apologizing for yourself," he said. Of course, he only knew this because it was a lesson he was trying to learn himself and incorporate into his life and behavior. One needed to take one's place in the world and know one deserved that space. But he smiled as he looked up at Ronan, shading his eyes with his hand. "If you mean with Webbing, you need to sit down and tell me if you have any experience meditating or working with the mysteries." This was, of course, a word Sam used for all magical pursuits so long as they were pursued by a Drykas of the blood.

[Ronan]

He always apologised for himself, it was a part of who he was. Constantly justifying his existence, trying to turn away from the past. He knew that he needed to change, but that was easier said than done.

He dropped his arms down and nodded at Sam, sitting back down on the ground. "Mysteries...? I haven't really meditated before either. Saying that though, I sure as hell know how to sit and quietly contemplate. Is it something like that?"

Was he supposed to know all of this? It worried him that he didn't really have a clue, yet Sama'el seemed so confident in the words he spoke. Of course, the man could use reimancy. Ronan remembered now. So he could use reimancy and webbing? Perhaps there were other magics Sam had a hold of too. Was that something the Watch expected?

He looked up at Sam expectantly, knowing an explanation was coming his way.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Well, hey... I'll try to walk you through it. Just get comfortable, but not so comfortable that you'll fall asleep." He grinned and moved around to sit cross-legged in front of Ronan. "Try to relax and put everything out of your mind. It's all but impossible, and thoughts will creep in, but just acknowledge them and then let go of them as best you are able. Don't beat yourself up for what you can't control. What you can't control yet." Sama'el himself still had much work to do before he could keep his mind from running like a herd of wild horses bolting from the scent of predators sometimes, but he knew some of the tools to help, and he had learned enough to call Fire and to weave the Web. As he focused on it, the Web began to glow in his sight. Luckily it was not too busy here where they were, but among the tents, light blazed with all the connections between people. "Close your eyes if the sight of me distracts you. Focus on your breathing. You can gain a lot of control over yourself when you start to control your breathing. Try to inhale for the count of four, then exhale for the count of four."

[Ronan]

"Alright," he said with a nod. He closed his eyes slowly, releasing the tension from his body to try and relax. He was still worked up from the fight, and a dull pain throbbed in his head. That wasn't going to help very much.

As he tried to relieve his mind of pressing thought, he found new ones popping up on the periphery. He tried to push them away, but then he only found himself thinking about them more.

Sama'el suggested a breathing technique, and so Ronan began to inhale and exhale to the count of four. He did it slowly, counting mentally to keep up a stable rhythm. After three or four rounds, he realised it helped. He felt a lot calmer, and the more pressing issues faded to a blur around him.

He began to realise that the other thoughts didn't matter. They appeared, and they encroached, but when he accepted they were there, but ignored them all the same, he found he had better control over his state of mind.

He would have to remember Sama'el's technique's for future.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Keep breathing," he said, his own voice sounding strangely calm and mature. He too was in a sort of a trance, though not unconscious to the world around him. In fact, he was tuned into their surroundings and Ronan himself on a heightened level. His hand reached out, fingertips resting upon his friend's sternum, finally rising and falling in a controlled manner. Ronan was a warrior and Sama'el, like any Drykas, respected that. Now he would have to learn the Mysteries in order to guard Endrykas or become an Ankal. The stuff that made up Ronan began to collect at his fingers, attracted to whatever attunement had been done ot him when Daed made him a Web Mage. With a clockwise twist as if he were turning a key in a lock, Sama'el began to pull on Ronan's djed from that heart center, coaxing it forth. Ronan likely felt nothing, possibly even thought Sama'el didn't know what he was doing. Until one was attuned to the Web or the other magical energies, one might as well have been playing as doing true work. But those strands of Ronan were pulled across the space between them to be woven into Sam's own, binding the two of them in the Web, which would make it easier to find one another, but also would give Ronan's soul a path to travel when Sama'el pulled it out of his body. "Keep breathing," he said. "When you are ready, nod, and I will pull you out of your body and into the Web."

[Ronan]

Ronan continued breathing slowly, his inner turbulence fading into calm. When Sam touched at his chest, he neither flinched nor reacted, such was his state of mind.

A moment later, Sama'el twisted his hand. Ronan felt a momentary tingle, but it passed as quickly as it came, and his thoughts were not disturbed. A curosity piqued at the borders of his mind. What would the Web feel like...? Would it have substance, or texture? Or would be it like ephemeral clouds, always visible, never touchable.

"When you are ready," Sam began. Ronan listened carefully. He was ready alright. So ready it felt like his spirit was set to take flight from his soft, fleshy body.

He nodded firmly, and tried not to tense. He trusted Sama'el absolutely. Soon enough, he would understand the great network of connections he had always heard so much about. A skill his father had never been able to teach him. An Ankal's duty, swept away by the tide of time...

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el had never done this, but the theory of it had been explained to him several times: by Daed, by Petya, even by his dear departed grandfather so very long ago. One might rip a man's spirit from the moorings of the flesh, but Sama'el coaxed, urging, tugging until Ronan's spirit, trusting and pliant, left his body through the cord of woven energies Sama'el had made. It flowed through Sama'el, but then out into the greater Web. With practiced ease, Sama'el was outside his body too. His spirit stood beside Ronan's spirit, his hand holding Ronan's, although they had no feet to stand upon, no hands to hold. The mind gave shape to the soul in such matters, and so their astral projections looked, at least, like silvery, not quite corporeal versions of themselves, though only another Web Mage or perhaps a ghost would be able to see them. 'This is the Web,' he said without a mouth, thought running from him to Ronan without the abstractions of language. 'Do not be afraid. I am here with you.' There were certainly things to fear when walking the Web, but within Endrykas the dangers were kept at bay by the Ankals and Watchmen who practiced this most Drykas of mysteries. 'When you return to your body, you will be able to see this when you wish. But for now you must become accustomed to this spirit state, so you will know where you are going when you attempt to leave your body. Our work with the Web requires leaving our bodies like this, most of the work requiring direct contact between our spirits and the Web. Do you understand?'