First meeting (Sama'el)

[Joss Hawkeye]

Winter 5, 512

Sama'el Sunsinger - the Ankal with a bear cub for a son! Joss thought that he had heard some rumors about this outlandish phenomenon some time ago. But he had dismissed them for some sort of envy laced with a desire to malign. Was not that the basis for most gossip? His uncles, though, had told him just the day before that, no, it was true. Apparently the man had somehow provoked the bear goddess and this was what had been deemed a fit punishment – a dead wife and a bear for a son! Amazing. Joss had been a bit uneasy at the thought of approaching such a cursed individual. But his oldest uncle had assured him that the Ankal of the reformed Pavilion was highly approachable and would be a good source of instruction for webbing – a skill that would come in quite handy should Joss be allowed to join the Watch. Not having cultivated any magical skills of his own yet, this was another aspect to this meeting that had the young man a bit on edge. But all had been arranged, through his family, and now he waited, trying not to show the nervousness he felt. This young man, though not incredibly older than Joss himself, had seen far more of life than Joss could even imagine. But Joss tried to remind himself that, though his own experiences were limited – as were his skills – it was what lay in a man’s heart, and his will to accomplish, to improve, that counted for just as much as what he had been through.

His mother smiled at him encouragingly as she adjusted a pillow on the carpeted floor of the spacious main pavilion of her own parents. This was where Joss had been raised, and at least he felt that comfort that comes with being in familiar surroundings. His uncles had encouraged him to meet with the Sunsinger one on one, without their intercession. Joss needed to make some sort of favorable impression on the young Ankal on his own, for if Sama'el did agree to train him in some of what was needed, there had to be some accord between them. His uncles wouldn’t be around to hold his hand and smooth the waters. Joss returned his mother’s smile, though typically his face was set in rather serious lines. His ears pricked up as he heard his grandfather greeting someone outside the pavilion, and within a brief moment, the old man was drawing aside the tent flap, politely waiting for that someone to enter his home.

Joss let out his breath steadily and stood straight, waiting with an expectant look on his face.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el was honored to be invited into the Hawkeye pavilion, and was glad that they did not seem to be suffering from the ongoing pox, made all the more difficult to combat as the Winter was a time for the higher incidence of illness in general. But even though Sama'el was one of the first Ankals to isolate his pavilion, setting up camp farther from the rest and discouraging excessive visits in or out, he was still on the Watch, and he had a responsibility to the entirety of his people, too.

When he entered the main room of the pavilion, Joss got his first look at him. He was tall and rangy, his muscles present, but compact, like whipcord wound tightly around his bones. He wore mostly blues for his clan, more wool than not now Winter was here, and his dark hair was braided and bound back. His face was open and friendly, eyes dark and a little squinting as if he spent too much of his time staring over the Sea of Grass and into the sun, or perhaps just laughing.

He greeted the woman, then turned to Joss himself, putting out his hand to clasp wrists with him in Drykas fashion. Though Joss knew who was coming to dinner, Sama'el was polite all the same.

"Well met, Hawkeye," he said with a flash of white teeth, the name of the pavilion good enough until Joss introduced himself. "I'm Sama'el Sunsinger."

[Joss Hawkeye]

Joss came forward, pushing aside his nervousness, and reaching for the outstretched hand. Wrapping his fingers about the young Ankal’s wrist, he said, “I’m honored to welcome you to my family’s tents, Sama’el. I am Joss. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

It was all a bit formal, but Joss had been raised to believe good manners never went amiss. And though this other young man wasn’t creased with the respectable lines of age and experience, he was still an Ankal, and thus deserving of courtesy. At the same time, as Joss had watched Sama’el enter and approach, he thought this member of the Watch, about whom much had been said, was not in any way pompous or stiff or arrogant. He seemed a straightforward man, and Joss breathed a bit more easily for that. Honesty also never went amiss, and if they could be honest with each other, he thought he might be able to convince Sama’el to share some of his knowledge and skill. But it was still early days yet. Joss knew appearances could be deceiving. He only hoped this didn’t prove the case here.

Joss then turned to gesture at his mother, who stood slightly behind him, smiling gravely and looking engaged. This was her eldest after all. She wanted to see him grow into a proud, productive, skilled and respected man. “This is my mother, Nataly. We lost my father seven winters ago – he was killed during a hunt.” Joss said simply, as explanation as to why his mother’s husband wasn’t also present to make the Ankal welcome. The fact that his biological father was some faceless bandit slaver of the south was obviously something that didn’t need to enter into this particular conversation. Joss had never considered that brigand bastard to have any real role in his life, and the man he had just spoken of had held , and would always hold, the role of father in his heart.

Nataly bowed her head, saying, “You are indeed most welcome, Sama’el Sunsinger. I add my thinks to those of my son for your visit.” Her gaze turned to her son and some unspoken communication flew back and forth there – though it was really no more than a mother’s encouragement. “I will fetch some tea,” she said, before taking her leave, moving with a simple grace and dignity, representative of the self-assurance with which the women of the Drykas typically were endowed.

Joss then gestured to a collection of large, flat cushions scattered about a brazier filled with fuel, which radiated warmth into the front space of the pavilion. “Please, will you sit? Then we can speak comfortably.”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

After greeting both Nataly and Joss, and Nataly again after her son introduced her, he was pleased to sit down. There was a gesture at mention of Joss' dead father, a particularly Drykas thing that indicated respect and compassion. They had all lost family to the various and sundry rigors of life on the Sea of Grass. Most people who knew about him knew that his own pavilion had been destroyed by bandits in Sylira. He had been the sole survivor that nobody had known, and rebuilt his pavilion from nothing.

He was a survivor, and determined, if nothing else.

His rump on a pillow, legs crossed before him, he was ready to talk. A Drykas might talk in circles when selling a horse to an outlander, but when they had business with each other, they often got right to the point. Not that he minded the small talk. It was good to have the respect of other Drykas, for it reflected upon the pavilion he had worked so hard to reinstate.

There was something exotic about Joss, but it was not uncommon for outlanders to be adopted into the horseclans. Others had remarked on the shape of Sama'el's own eyes, some throw back from an old ancestor, perhaps. But regardless, he smiled.

"My ears are yours, friend Joss."

[Joss Hawkeye]

Joss chose a cushion about a meter away from his guest and sat. Though there was a definite order of prestige amongst the Drykas, they were not ones to be overly obsequious and it was to be expected in a meeting such as this that both young men would be free to sit and speak almost as equals. Sama’el’s invitation to Joss, then, to do so, was all the entrée the boy required. He gave the young Ankal a frank look, and plunged right in to the matter at hand, trying to sound confident without seeming arrogant, or pushy. He wasn’t exactly at his best in the social interactions arena, still possessed of the awkwardness of just leaving his youth behind. But he was determined to do his best, here, and hopefully demonstrate that he had the maturity to take on the training that he so desired.

“I know my uncles have informed you that I wish to become a member of the Watch. They’ve told me many good things about you, Sama’el, that you are a good man, and a skilled webber. That was why I wished to speak to you. I’ve heard that from time to time you have been willing to share your knowledge with a novice – to teach one who is eager to learn, if they have any feeling for the magic. I – I have invited you here to ask you…if you would be willing to do that – for me.”

Joss paused. That was quite a speech for the usually quiet teen. But he did add, “I – I don’t say that I will have any talent, but…I would be a good student. I would give you all my attention and energy, and do as you ask of me, whenever you had time to instruct me.”

NOTEAssume all Joss' speech is in Pavi in this thread. I didn't want to fill the posts with annoying orange

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el nodded seriously. He himself wasn't all that much older than Joss, and knew how important it had been for him to be accepted into the Watch. If Daed Whitefeather hadn't initiated him, then vouched for him, he wasn't sure how long it might have taken him to be accepted. Of course, it hadn't landed him Daed's daughter, but the days for that were passed now.

"Well, I can't promise that you'll have the knack for it," he said, playing him straight, "but I can test you, and if you seem like you'll take to it, and you promise me on your honor and your Strider that you will obey me when it comes to Webbing, then yes. You have to understand, of all the mysteries, this is the most sacred to the Drykas. It's not required for the Watch, but it is to become an Ankal, and it will certainly help you in the Watch.

"But since the djed storms, the Web is a mess. What was dangerous before, we had always respected. Now it's even more dangerous, and so I won't train someone who thinks they know better than me, or that is going to keep pulling at my lead. I won't be the one who comes into this pavilion to tell Nataly that her son's body lives, but his spirit is wandering forever."

He paused to let this sink in. He wasn't trying to frighten Joss, but he did want him to know just how serious a matter it was. The Sapphire Clan was the keeper of the mysteries, though they were spread out through the other clans too. At some point, though, his pavilion would need him too much for him to continue in the Watch, and so this sort of thing might become more common for him.

"So if you want to know," he said, holding his hands out, palms up, "just give me your hands." His own were callused from his scimitar, and from his other weapons, and the leathercrafting he did on the side. But they bore no weapon now, and were extended in friendship.

[Joss Hawkeye]

Sama’el listened with seeming seriousness, and for that, at least, Joss was grateful. He wasn’t particularly young by the Drykas standards, but neither was he considered a full grown adult, until he had taken on some useful job or function or role that would help his family, his pavilion, his clan and the Drykas as a whole. So it was very gratifying to hear the young Ankal’s reply, and Joss himself listened intently and in silence, only nodding a bit to acknowledge that he knew – the web was far from intact, and thus, it was in need of fixing and those who attempted to connect with it were at even more risk than before the storm. Joss had already given some serious consideration to the danger. Webbing wasn’t required of a watchman. But he had decided that it was something he greatly desired to learn, if he could, for truly, the web was the life of Cyphrus, and his race. Like blood vessels and nerves within the human body, it carried life giving energy and intelligence, both necessary for survival. It would be of tremendous help to him, if he was able to learn webbing. So after a respectful moment, indicating that he understood Sama’el’s warning, he nodded.

“I do wish to know, Sama’el,” he replied quietly, and without hesitation, he rose to his knees and moved closer, extending his two hands and placing them palm down on the other’s. Like the Ankal’s, Joss’ hands were hardened from use of the bow, and a myriad other hard tasks he had performed in aid of helping his family survive the never easy life on the plains. His dark eyes looked into those bright, deep blue ones and he waited, patiently, for the words to come.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el closed his hands lightly around Joss'. He sat straight, let his eyes drift shut. Though he wasn't the greatest at reading auras, some of this came from just being initiated in the Web. He could sense the Web around them, the link between Joss and Nataly, Joss and a Strider outside, and really, everything was light to his mind's eye. The pavilion was all interconnected, and there were connections aplenty to other pavilions, other people, horses, things.

It could be blinding.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he brought his focus in, blocking out what was beyond the tent, observing the way Joss' aura reacted to the Web around it, and vice versa.

His almond shaped eyes opened and he smiled crookedly.

"Well, you have the capacity. Do you want me to initiate you now? Are you ready for your training to begin? I will have to pull your spirit out of your body, and baptize it in the energies of the Web."

He didn't know why Joss' own Ankal didn't do this, but it was not his business. A favor had been asked of him, and he had agreed to do it if Joss was able, and it turned out he was.

[Joss Hawkeye]

Joss waited, watching Sama’el’s face, as the other young man’s eyes closed. Though he had no skill with auras, still, Joss thought he felt some wave of energy pass through those hands holding his, like some echo that reverberated against his very core and bounced back to the Ankal. It was over quickly, and Sama’el’s dark eyes opened and he pronounced that which Joss had longed to hear, yet had harbored some reservations that he might not hear. He nodded eagerly.

“Yes, I’m ready,” he breathed, happy and feeling the anticipation like a humming in his blood. There might well be reasons his grandfather had asked another to perform this rite – but such had been kept very quiet, and not shared with this boy. So he had no reservations now, only enthusiasm, despite that the path he was about to set his feet on was a dangerous one. Then again, all life’s journeys were fraught with risk. Like most things, to learn webbing would both reduce that risk in some respects, and increase it in others. It all just depended on what fate threw at him.

His hands still in Sama’el’s, steady and calm to outward appearances, he nodded again. “Please, I wish it very much. I put myself in your hands, Sama’el.”

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

OOCPsst! You might be thinking of Hadrian's eyes, but Sam's are brown.

Sama'el couldn't help but grin at the enthusiasm; usually he was the overly enthused individual in any given situation. But he nodded.

"Get comfortable. Once we're out of our bodies, we won't have any control over them. You'll see me slump a bit first, but don't worry. I'll be preparing the way for you. Just breathe and keep calm, and I'll ease you out of your body and into the Web. I'll be holding your hand on the astral plane as well, so don't be afraid. I won't let go. You'll be safe."

With that, he inhaled deeply, and as he exhaled, his spirit slipped gradually out of his body. He was quick about such things now, getting very much better with time and so much practice. A silvery astral form stepped out, invisible to Joss, who seemed to be peering closely at Sama'el's fleshly vessel. But Sama'el worked quickly, pulling energy out from his chest like a spider produced silk, and began to weave his own essence around Joss' body and then through it until the net caught his spirit.

He might even feel it, a tingle against his soul.

Then Sama'el's 'hands' reached into Joss and gently withdrew his soul, bit by bit. The silvery version of Joss trembled in his grasp, unused to this separation, but he began to sooth him with a telepathic sort of communication.

I've got you, Joss. It's Sama'el. Just relax. Open your eyes and see the Web around you.