Date: October 19, 1998
Place: Sanctuary - Beneath Haven
Cast: Ashoka, BrightEyes, Rani
Scene: Two "outcast" Varati engage in a sparring match, of sorts, though the weapon is magic. A harsh lesson is learned.

Sanctuary - Beneath Haven:
      This huge, underground lair is the nexus of a maze of tunnels, abandoned cellars, and cramped passageways running beneath the streets of Haven. It is doubtful that many know of its existence, for the entrances are few, and the guards are many. But here at its heart, there is a kind of comfort, for this is the haven within Haven--the place where all are truly free, and truly equal.
      Wooden beams provide support for the immense chamber, which may have once been an underground storage area for some building that long ago burned down. Tents are set up by its residents, providing some color in this sunless place, and small fires generate warmth. The laughter of children and the babble of voices is heard as frequently hear as in the Rialto, somewhere far above. A circular area in the center, devoid of tents, provides a gathering-place for those few occasions when a meeting is necessary. But for the most part, the mongrels, halfbreeds, outcasts, rogues, and wanderers who call this place "home" go about their lives in peace.

The sanctuary has begun to stir with the morning, fasts being broken around various fires and tents. From the east, a Varati woman in a saffron sari emerges. In her hand is a lantern burning brightly. She begins to move from fire to fire... imparting words to 'preserve the coal and firewood'... before those fires become somewhat hotter than they were unnaturally. Then she moves to the next.

Ashoka sits in the far corner of the cavern, as usual alone in his musing and reflections. He stares into a fire of his own, strangely burning from only two pieces of crossed wood. His thoughts are silent, though his eyes continually move away from the flames to watch others.

Eventually Madame Rajan finds her way to Ashoka's fire, bending down, "We must pre..." Her golden eyes look at the fire a moment then up at the man sitting across it. "Imphadi."

Ashoka looks up slowly at the greeting and nods. "Imphada, I have heard. We must each do what we can in this time. You have been well, I see."

Rani nods, slowly moving to take a seat, setting her lantern down which snuffs out. The firelight plays oddly on her golden irises. "With our people preparing for war, we have much work to do here for ... our adopted clan."

Ashoka's face flickers with a brief frown but he nods. "If the Varati and the Empyreans war, then the blood will run even through the tunnels here." His voice holds restrained anger. "It already has."

Rani considers, "It has ... it ... could not have been prevented I think." She takes out a cheroot, and it lights. A veil of blue smoke covers her features. "Cynara has requested that my talents be put to some use for the Sanctuary..." She doesn't finish the statement.

Ashoka does not answer for a time, but finally nods. "As I knew it would come to this. Cynara wishes me to learn. She has not said the words, but her intent is plain." He turns back to the fire. "Many things in battle cannot be avoided, but the battles themselves can be. What happened need not have done so, and it should not have resolved in the way it did. There is no honor amongst the Varati, it would seem."

Rani shakes her head, "There is still honor ... but the clans do not hold it." She, too, is silent a moment. "We should begin at the beginning," looking up at you, "How far and in what school were you trained?"

Ashoka again seems hesitant to answer. "I was a student of the Atarvani for a little under six months. Upon the completion of the month, I was to become an acolyte." The way he speaks would make you think this to be more of a confession of sin than a simple statement of fact.

Rani nods, "And you know I once served as High Shechah to the Khalida?" He does not wait for an answer, "... I would see then how you fare ... Please stand." She begins to stand herself, still holding the cheroot in one hand. Her tone is rather reminiscent of your Atarvani teachers.

Ashoka's body stiffens, a frown of anger washing his face for a moment, then gone. Eyes stare up, dark and baleful before looking away. He nods and slowly rises to his feet, sword left lying upon the ground, his back straight, body tense.

Rani watches you quietly, as if measuring you.... Whether she considers your angry visage is not seen. She apparently has a student, and your past means little to her. "Now ... exert your power against me. Full." You begin to see the ripples of heat about her as well as her own power is brought forth

Ashoka glances to one side, then grits his teeth, his face a mask of silent pain as lips curl to allow a single word to hiss through his teeth. "Burn." The whispered hiss is almost lost in the shimmering heat and crackle of flame. His hand snaps forward in a blow that could physically break a neck. The blow falls well short of the woman herself, but the ball of flame leaps from his fist directly towards her.

As the ball of flame rushes at Rani, two fingers snatch the hem of her sari's wide sleeve and arc, creating a shield of sorts. Yet it is just cloth. Ashoka's flame though seems almost to shatter upon it though, highlighting the saffron color. The ripples of heat about the Varati matron remain as she lowers her sleeve, revealing her glittering, golden eyes.

Several people nearby leap away, one woman even screaming at the sight of flame being hurled and shattered with what looks to be little care for life. Still others rush towards the sound of the commotion, staring on with muttered words and gasps.

Ashoka steps back, at first unbalanced by the sight, then uncertain. All this in but a second before he pushes both hands out towards him, fairly glowing with radiant heat now. With eyes closed, his next move is unexpected, a foot sweeping through the fire below him, kicking one of the pieces of wood up and towards the woman again. The flame around the projectile seems to intensify.

Now people coming toward the commotion step back when they see Ashoka attempt to strike Madame Rajan in that way. A very wide circle is being made.

Rani seems to have been taken by surprise though, the piece of intensified wood hitting her just below her shoulder. A rather deep hiss is heard from her as she takes the blow, though soon she wraps her sari around the firebrand, bending over slightly. "Your reflexes are good ... now your defense," There is little exertion of effort in her voice though, as she spreads her arms out wide and the firebrand is now a wave of fire, as tall as Rani herself, which gushes towards the man.

Amongst the crowd is another pair of green eyes, fire reflecting over their glittering surface. The watcher worms her way forward through the horrified onlookers who dare not interrupt.

Ashoka's eyes widen, but he does not retreat from the wall of flame that tears towards him. His hands are brought suddenly to his chest, clenching tightly there as his eyes slam shut. "Burn." Again, the word lost to all but the nearest. In the fraction of a second before the wall of flame consumes the Varati, it is as though his own clothing suddenly bursts into flame. As both sources of flame consume him, there is no sound, but the distinct odor of burning leather and flesh. When the flame is passed, the Varati still stands, by nothing more than force of will, his skin blackened in several places.

A gasp runs through the crowd....

A small child begins to cry at the sight before being rushed away by its mother.

Rani's rippling heat about her instantly disappears and she appears the old, venerable Varati matron again. In a quick moment, even before the flames have dissipated around Ashoka, she is moving toward him quickly.

BrightEyes takes a hesitant step forward into the ring which surrounds the two Varati, not willing to become an unwitting casualty of friendly fire. A plea, a command, a word falls from her lips, "Enough."

Ashoka's entire body shudders, his lips curled back, teeth still clenched. Even as his legs begin to shake and fold, a final defiant whisper, inaudible to all but himself, appears in the form of a candle flame. It flickers from one hand as it is raised toward the Varati matron, then oblivion claims the man. He falls in silence, impacting with the ground with a faint 'whump' sound. Leathers still smolder about his body, but consciousness has fled him.

Rani is at the man's side, starting to cradle him. His burned flesh and the still smoldering leathers and skin do not affect her much. "Enough is right .... BrightEyes." She beckons the Sylvan to approach.

Rani looks down at Ashoka. "Much to learn," is whispered to the pupil who cannot, at the moment, hear.

Ashoka's body twitches involuntarily. Nerves scream in silent pain and express themselves in the only way they can. The movement alone a sign that Rani is not cradling a corpse.

The confrontation over, BrightEyes is quick to Ashoka's side, a mindless humming unheard over the abrupt resurgence of chattering amongst the Outcasts as the story fills the hall. Drawing in a deep breath, her hands begin to move over his body, held an inch above his damaged flesh and clothing. Starting at his feet, she is only at his knees when her eyes flick closed, but she doesn't stop until her hands have passed over his entire frame, leaving behind sunburned skin, but no blisters.

Rani looks over at BrightEyes, "Thank you, BrightEyes ..." She does not appear sorry for what has happened, though she still cradles his head on her lap.

Coming to an end, the Sylvan places her hands on the ground before her eyes slowly open. "Was that really necessary?" She runs her fingers through sweat-stringy hair. "What if I wasn't around to put him back together?"

Rani's smile is actually rather pleasant, her golden eyes alighting on the Sylvan. "Absolutely. One must never betray or disobey a teacher. It was a lesson he required..." She pauses, "...and the more important lesson of learning to bathe in the Flame, for in that way one comes closer to its source." This time her smile is less pleasant, but more ... meaningful, in a diabolical way. There is something to the myth of the Erinyes, if even in an old Varati woman.

"You could have killed him. What kind of a lesson would that be?" BrightEyes' muscles quiver as she sits back on her heels, the healing magic having taken its toll. "There are other ways to re-educate the stubborn."

Rani's hands seem to be caressing Ashoka's hair as he is still unconscious, though you see small, spidery tendrils of flame coming from her hands, but not actually igniting his hair, "He would not have died ... Do you suggest the teacher does not know what she is doing?" Her eyes are still on the Sylvan.

The answer leaps out without thought. Possibly hazardous to one's health. "Yes!" Then as the brain catches up, BrightEyes adds, "No." With a sigh, she sets her shoulders, "I have seen flame like that in the forest--seen the burns it has left behind. And the death which followed."

Rani arches a silver eyebrow. "All things the Flame consumes in time, BrightEyes ... though you may be assured that I serve Ashur al'Masad and no cruel conjurer of the Pure Flame." Her tone makes this sound more significant, capitalizing her speech. "I believe it is time for him to wake now..." She begins to rub Ashoka's temples. "Come, Imphadi..."

A stormy frown settles upon the Sylvan's forehead, warping the brand there. Nothing more than a grunt of mild disbelief breaks her silence as she watches her patient with grim concern.

At the Varati woman's touch, Ashoka's body jerks again. His eyes snap open, mouth wide as if to scream or gasp at a life-giving breath. Whatever sound attempts to escape his throat is quickly strangled into silence, his body moving before he realizes its state, leading him to collapse against Rani again.

Rani blinks slightly, "He is an obstinate man..." As the body collapses again, "Ashoka ... attend." Her hands come to rest again, this time on his forehead, the other on his shoulder.

BrightEyes takes up the nearest of Ashoka's hands in her own, whispering silently beneath her breath.

Ashoka senses: BrightEyes' hands seem the source of a gentling coolness which flows through you, absorbing the pain-screaming nerves from which you are suffering.

Ashoka shudders and breathes raggedly. Before moving again, his eyes move from one side to the other, noting BrightEyes' presence. He watches her a moment, then stares up at Rani. His lips move soundlessly, face an emotionless mask once more as he slowly tries to rise from the woman's lap.

Rani actually aids the man to rise, some strength still left in her limbs.

Whisper taking on a harsh tone, the only sign of her disapproval, BrightEyes continues to hold onto the man's hand.

Ashoka takes a deep, shaky breath as he rises. His hand squeezes BrightEyes', then releases it, weakly pulling away. His body nearly betrays him at this action, as he stumbles but manages to right himself again. Finally, he leans away from Rani's support to stand on his own two feet--head slowly, painfully turning to regard the gathered spectators.

Most of the spectators moved away after BrightEyes healed, but many still remain, showing much relief when Ashoka stands, though some still awed and speaking in whispers to each other.

Rani moves to Ashoka's side. "Ashoka." Her golden eyes resting on him. Apparently either the lesson isn't over, or she wants his attention for another reason.

BrightEyes folds her arms over her chest with a scowl dark enough to match Red-Tail's. The tremor in her legs is small enough to be unseen by all but the most observant.

Ashoka slowly turns, every movement pain or the memory of pain, though his face shows little or none of it. His head lowers slightly in Rani's direction. "Imphada. My honor is... yours." The words are almost a whisper under the whispers of others.

"Honor is given to he who recognizes and offers his own, Imphadi..." Rani nods her head almost ceremoniously. Then, she continues, "And what lesson have you learned, Ashoka?" Her hands rest on her hips, as her golden eyes regard the man.

Ashoka shivers slightly but looks up at the woman addressing him. "The lesson is one I should know. If force meets force, then one will always break. The flame gives life, but can also devour."

BrightEyes stands by, head swiveling as she looks between the two of you.

Rani nods. "Than we shall begin you next level of training when you have meditated on this central key to the Flame. When you are ready, seek me out." She pauses before turning away. "And Ashoka ... control. Never tempt the Flame, nor strike at it in anger. The next time it shall devour wholly." Her brows furrow.

Ashoka nods slowly as he watches the woman retreat. He manages half a bow towards her back. "Yes, Imam." Upon straightening again, a brief flicker of pain crosses his face, then is gone. He watches her leave in silence.

FIN  

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