Strength is also of the Mind [-open-]

[Ishara Dossari]

The 82nd Day of Spring, Year 512 AV It was early. These days Ishara woke with the sun. By doing so, she further made certain that by the time the sun sank below the horizon she was bone-weary enough to drop into her tent and sink into dreamless sleep. This particular morning did not stand out from any of the others. Ishara found herself traveling down the same sandy path to the stand of lanky palms, where a small dune was raised in just the right place to watch the sunrise... Ishara knelt on the warming sands, shutting her eyes against the glare of the morning sun as it crested the horizon. As she felt her feet sift into the fine grains beneath her, she sighed deeply. A light breeze teased the air, stirring the unbound hair falling down Ishara's back and bringing with it a hint of the coming season. Ishara breathed in deeply through her nose, tasting the salty air as she felt the sunlight warm her cheeks. Another deep pull of air and her mind began to go quiet. A few heartbeats later, she began to sense a closing in on herself, the beginings of being center... She was getting good at this sort of thing. Her mind drifted into the void, swallowed by velvety blackness and a feeling of such stillness...one almost felt weightless, as though they were suspended beneath the water. Water...an image surged to mind, one of dark, sea-green waves that hurled themselves into the air, crashing in mountains of frothy foam. The rumble and growl called to mind a storm... Ishara wrestled the train of thought into submission before she could begin to consider the gathering of clouds. The void emerged once again, dragging her deeper into her subconscious, wrapping her in a warm embrace...warm? Is that-- ...Ishara cracked one eye, squinting as sunlight flooded her vision. Blinking a few times, she registered that the warmth of the rising sun was clinging to her dark clothing. It was a nice counter to the breeze...and so Ishara sighed shortly and shut her eyes. It was like slipping into a lake of shadows. Blurred images came to her in tides of distorted shapes. It took everything Ishara had to refuse those images recognition. Instead, she kept veering away from tangible thought, sliding further down a darkening corridor...Sound evaporated. The sensation of the cool wind sliding past, the smell of the ocean, the rush of waves upon sand...all of that evaporated. She was gliding... Footsteps shattered the stillness. An exasperated sigh hissed from her lungs as she whirled to face the 'trespasser,' glacial eyes snapping in irritation.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

It was still pretty cool in the spring mornings. Something he had grown very accustomed to both in his time here in Riverfall and elsewhere. Waking with the sun was a good way to prepare your body for the day ahead; one never knew what a day would honestly bring with it. The gentle abrasion of the warm sand on his bare feet was another tactile stimulus that he had grown used to in Mura. Warm sands, wonderful sunrises and the sound of the lulling ocean; it was amazing that he had come this far and still some things were still the same. Little reminders of Mura brought him peace with himself…lead him to think deeply about everything and anything.

The beach was relatively flat, the wind had seen to that quite well, blowing the sand around equally depositing it in fine sheets. Summer would be coming soon…and he would have a choice to make; one he would have to make alone. Stay or go…He had made rough plans with Ishara; however there were several things that still rung true to him that threatened to keep him here instead for another few seasons. However general consensus was if you left for Windreach after the last day of summer you wouldn’t make it there before winter settled on…and none made it to Windreach through the winter grip…

He poured everything through his mind; he wanted to make somewhere his home. He wanted to belong and be an intricate working piece of somewhere…but he didn’t know where. Trust…he needed to earn trust. The fact was he felt like an outcast and he wasn’t sure how to make anyone in the Sanctuary trust WHO he was. Kavala knew…but none of the others did. That was something he would have to work on…It seemed there was much to do before Summer worked it’s way to Riverfall. The secret of his charge still sat with him, unsure of how Kavala would act if he told her he kept it hidden. But if he was going to leave it would only be polite to let her know ahead of time.

The sun was just beginning to rise when he saw an oddity in the landscape, seemed the wind hadn’t blown every part of the landscape flat. And atop this hill was a familiar figure, long black hair…Bronze skin…it was Ishara. It was obvious she was meditating likely deep in thought. Good news was that someone else enjoyed the mornings like he did. They had a good bit in common, both of them transplants from far away, although where she came from sounded much more foreign that Mura….although he was sure she would say the same thing about Mura.

His eyes settled on her…beautiful desert flower…Did flowers even grow in the desert? Again another item was added to his list of curiosities; things he would have to research later when and if he had the time. He watched her for a few minutes in her peaceful state. The wind blowing her long hair about her lithe frame. She looked very much at peace right now; he wished he could be that peaceful right now. Maybe…just maybe there was some secret atop that dune in the early mornings sun. He could see her measured breaths, her body easily relaxed. But it was the small things that told you the most about someone.

Small expressions on her body told him everything he needed to know about what she was thinking on. Every now and then a muscle would tense…then relax. Her lip would curl up at the end as if she was thinking about something unpleasant. Maybe her past was coming to envelop her…a feeling he was well in tune with. He had his own demons…and she had hers. The real trick was keeping them at bay long enough to put yourself at peace. As he saw it interrupting her now would likely be a favor to her, dreading the past was never something pleasant; especially when it brought such terrible weight with it.

Her sudden snapping to him only confirmed his suspicions; she was irritated…An emotion that could be easily misinterpreted out of context. She was maybe still anxious from her meditation, a by product of thinking on a less than enjoyable past. He smiled, washing away her irritation letting it wash past him.

“The mind does tend to wander doesn’t it?” He stated as he walked closer to her and took a seat right beside her in the warm sand. In his experience a good way to avoid a woman’s wrath was with warmth.

[Ishara Dossari]

A wry smile replaced the look of irritation as Serrif sank down next to her. She could not help but laugh at herself, for the spark of temper that had flared so briefly to life had betrayed her thoughts to the one who had grown accustomed to reading them as of late. She was an open book when she lost control, hence the reason she found herself out here...practicing. Ishara shrugged, loosening her shoulders that had grown tense at the onslaught of interrupting thoughts. "Yes. That it does. It would seem that more practice is in my future...I cannot still it all at once. But I think by degrees, I feel improvement. It is easier now than it was..." Though, that wasn't saying much. Easier by comparison was still a struggle when compared to the ease with which the true masters sank into meditation. To them, it seemed as natural as breathing in and out. But that kind of control took decades to learn. Ishara sighed heavily at the thought, and straightened her posture, glancing sidelong at Serriff. "Are you here to teach me more about steering my mind?" That wry, teasing smile was still there, just beyond reach and flashing in the depths of her cerulean eyes. Any trace of her earlier irritation had since vanished, and it showed in the way she relaxed around him. Serriff had grown to be a friend, familiar, comforting...hard in some of his lessons, perhaps, but it was never uncalled for.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

“Practice is important, especially in meditation. One slowly learns to deaden the senses and focus on what is most important. I heard it like this once, the quieter you are the more you are able to hear.” He heard a Konti meditation instructor at the Suvai pavilion say that once while he was waiting for Ildin.

“I could teach you some about steering the mind…what I know has more of a practical application.” Which was the only way he could still function while receiving some of the wounds and poisons he had while in the slave camp…that little bit he omitted for her safety. Some things were better left mysterious for the time being.

“I’m not a master by any means but we can learn some together.” He took a comfortable sitting position and shrugged.

“I found sometimes it is easier to meditate if you have something almost trivial to think about…to sharpen your senses around. Something that doesn’t really matter that you have to stretch to feel or experience.” He scooted closer to her almost to where his knees were touching hers and he smiled.

“So, I will offer you this.” He offered his hands palms upturned with a smile.

“Focus on feeling my pulse through my hands. It won’t be easy but I think you can do it if you focus enough. And I will do the same.” Little did he know she would have an unfair advantage because his gift would calm her senses easily while he would have to do it the old fashioned way.

[Ishara Dossari]

Ishara shot him a skeptical look, studying his expression for any signs of...well, what exactly? she demanded of herself. Why would he be mocking her, or taunting her into touching him? He was a healer. He did not see the request for such intimacy the same as she did. In her culture, this sort of thing was not common, nor insignificant, outside of one's own family. Serrif did not seem the type who was out to probe his limits with her. What would he see in her anyway?

A scrawny desert flower, that is exactly what! Now stop acting like a dolt, and...

Ishara reached out and closed her small hands around his, her fingertips interlocking across his palm. With one last peek at her mentor's benign expression to confirm how unaffected he was by all of this, Ishara swallowed her trepidation and gave herself over unto the sensation of her hands locked around his. The warmth of his gift seeped into her gradually, aiding in the narrowing of her focus to the tides of his pulse fluttering against her skin. It was all so easy that Ishara found herself caught between disbelief and bliss.

Don't worry about all that, she told herself firmly. Just focus on...

Ishara breathed out...and in. And Out. The rhythm built upon itself a solid foundation, from which she gradually began to feel her body relax. [i] It was so easy[i/]...with Serrif here.

The sense of serenity seeped into her, plying loose tense muscles, enveloping her in warmth...unexpectedly, the image and sensation of Serrif's arms wrapped about her, that day on the shore in the rain, was conjured up fresh in her memory. She went rigid with expected surprise, aware that her heart rate had doubled, and her grip on his hand tightened ever so slightly. The serenity ebbed away, and Ishara peeked a glance up at him.

"Better..." she murmured, taking in another deep breath and preparing to start the battle over again.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

He joined her in taking easy measured breaths as he closed his eyes. He tried to shift his awareness to his hands. To feel how cold her hands were compared to his. That was the first thing that he felt. He found that if he focused on honing in to one thing at a time he could eventually get where he wanted to be. But like everything it would take time. Little by little. He knew there were some things he couldn’t focus away from easily. One such thing was the cold. But it was just cool, nothing like several days ago.

He continued to focus and she seemed to make the job easy for him when her heart rate skyrocketed. He felt that because her hands actually tremored some. Surprise? Did she hear something? He opened his eyes and looked around some…no, there was nothing interesting here. What had happened? His eyes caught hers.

’Better…’ “Did something startle you?” He sounded somewhat concerned as he wasn’t sure what had just happened. It was possible that her mind had conjured something up and startled her. But he wasn’t sure what could cause that.

“Because I don’t see anything else here but us.” But there were times that he said that and then regretted it later.