"A Lesson in Swimming -- and Something More"

Log Date:
	7/3, 7/6, 7/9, 7/11, 7/12, 7/16/01

Log Cast:
	Salmalin, Faanshi

Log Intro:
	For all that she is stricken by the sudden discovery that her 
beloved Mehul was a murderer of graisha and by his capture and execution 
at Sylvan hands, Faanshi has had no real time to mourn. Immediately upon 
her return to Atesh-Gah, the Maharani has sent her right back out again 
-- this time to the Apisachi tribe to the north, in search of Salmalin, 
whom she'd sent there in search of _her_. Anxious to keep the eccentric 
young kshatri from joining the ranks of those she has lost, bolstered 
somewhat by a late-night encounter in the Temple with none other than 
the God-King himself, the young healer has found Salmalin alive and well 
in Apisachi hands... but as of yet, they've refused to let him go.
	Now, the maiden lingers among the Sylvans as well, trying to hold 
together the shattered remnants of her soul. Khalid Atar has bidden her 
to release her pain, and so she has striven to do, taking steps for the 
first time to speak of what has befallen her with the man who to the 
eyes of the Varati carries the title of Voice while she speaks as the 
Voice in truth. But she has a great deal of pain to release, and not all 
of it has yet come free. Thus, unnerved by the daunting task of 
presenting herself as a true ambassador to this tribe of Sylvans, she 
has delayed in pursuing the issue of Salmalin's release as ardently as 
she should.
	And Salmalin has had the time to begin to try to think of ways to 
lift her out of her sorrow...

*===========================< In Character Time >==========================* 
             Time of day:  Afternoon 
          Date on Aether:  Saturday, July 18, 3908. 
           Year on Earth:  1508 A.D. 
       Phase of the Moon:  Waxing Crescent 
                  Season:  Summer 
                 Weather:  Clouds 
             Temperature:  Comfortable 
*==========================================================================*

Waterfall - Northern Forest(#1732RAh)
     A large foothill, rests here covered by the surrounding forest. Runoff 
  from in the mountains trickles down a mountain stream and cascades off a 
  small forty foot cliff. The waterfall ends in a serene pool, some twenty 
  feet across. The waters of the pool appear cool, but almost see through they 
  are so clean. From there the water drains out another stream and to the east.
     On the east side of the waterfall is an opening to a cave. To get past 
  the streams and to the opening there is an ancient natural stone bridge 
  leading across the stream straight to the ledge in front of the cave.
Contents:
Salmalin
Obvious exits:
Hollow Tree <HT>  West Cave <WC>  Cave <C>  Southwest <SW>

Salmalin
        If you have seen one, you have seen them all. A Varati male, young by 
  his looks, with the rough edges of stone for a face. Eyes like midnight, 
  untrusting and wary, peer out from dark hair that has been cut jagged. Like 
  a wolf he is lean, his movements loping and never in a straight line. He 
  wears no shirt, instead preferring to go bare to the waist.
        Dark skin covers his body as well as scars that seem to have been made 
  from some animal scratching their claws at him. On his back is a tattoo done 
  in color; the full form of an Empyrean woman. She wears nothing but a snake 
  that winds itself around her and covers nothing. Beautiful and angelic, a 
  vision sent from the heavens itself. The curves of her body, the firmness of 
  her stomach and the delicate smile that plays along her lips, how golden 
  tresses frame the line of her jaw. Wings that should be pure as snow are 
  instead black as night and are spread in flight, or rapture, the length of 
  them going across his shoulders and the tips ending at his elbows. Eyes of 
  brilliant blue gaze with love as she looks out across at something beyond 
  time and space. Behind her is a scene of fire, blue flames of rising up from 
  a lake to lick at her flesh. The rest of the scene, along with her feet, 
  disappear below the waist of his pants held tight by a cord. As he moves, so 
  do the muscles on his back; she moves with a life of her own, the goddess he 
  worships responding to his motion.
        Another tattoo rests upon the top of his arm in the form of a dagger. 
  The blade has been inked to look as though it were piercing his flesh where 
  the word 'khabar' has been done in red on the top of his wrist. There is a 
  pouch at his belt, alongside a dagger similar to the tattoo.

"Try tossing them higher. Like this..." Comes the voice of Salmalin from 
  behind a group of Apisachi children. They crowd around him as well as 
  another child holding three crudely shaped, wooden balls. Taking them in 
  hand the Varati man starts to juggle them into the air much to the wonder of 
  the children. With a smile he catches them and then hands them back. "Now 
  you try again. Remember not to throw them too far that you cannot catch 
  them."
Elsewhere the older Apisachi are enjoying the afternoon, taking a break from 
  their chores. Others disappear for a time into the forests for a quiet 
  moment away from the noise of the camp.

Children have always been a way to attract Faanshi's attention -- and the 
  children of the Apisachi tribe are no exception, for all that the halfbreed 
  girl still after a small number of days amongst the tribe awaiting the 
  patience of the Sachem does not feel at all comfortable among this tribe as 
  of yet. She has focused as best she can upon contributing the work of her 
  hands to the daily chores of the tribe, and trying to conquer the barrier of 
  her own shyness to venture tentative answers to the grudging questions given 
  her by the Sylvans... and to make a few tentative queries of her own. What 
  is the name of that herb? What is that food called? Will you tell me the 
  best way to mend this garment?
Now, though, she's come across a few free moments, and while Kosha snoozes 
  drowsily in the afternoon sun, the maiden lingers at the edge of the 
  clearing where the children are watching Salmalin juggle. And she finds 
  herself wondering, with no small amazement, how exactly the man seems to be 
  more at ease here than she... when it is she who has the Sylvan blood, and 
  Salmalin none at all.

As the children seem to get the hang of juggling, Salmalin has time to look 
  away. It is long enough for him to notice the woman that stands out so 
  easily amongst the Apisachi. He smiles at her and offers a wave of his hand 
  as he moves away from the children. "Do not worry," he says to their 
  protests, "I will teach you more later. Just keep practicing." With that he 
  is on his way toward Faanshi. When he stops he bows and offers, "Namaste. A 
  fine afternoon is it not?"

'Namaste' as a greeting has grown almost... strange, to Faanshi's ears, yet 
  she looks up at Salmalin with a noticeable relief in her eyes as he draws 
  near. Formal as always, the halfbreed clasps her hands at her breast and 
  bows, murmuring "Namaste', Salmalin," in reply. "The sky is clear, the sun 
  warm... the children seem happy at their play."

Salmalin nods and then dips his head to catch Faanshi's gaze as she lifts from 
  her bow. "Yes.. that is true. But what of Faanshi? Is she happy and doing 
  well?" He smiles a little and yet seems intent upon her answer. It is easy 
  to tell that she still remains upon pins and needles within this forest 
  dwelling. Taking in a breath he looks back to the children briefly. "I think 
  I could get used to aplace like this.. if they at least had something to 
  read every once in a while. Those parchment pages they keep in the far cave 
  or rather boring."

"I am drawn to the green growing places," Faanshi has to admit, shyly. "The 
  air beneath the trees is sweet, and the stars clear at night..." Neither of 
  these, however, answer those initial two questions, and the healer is aware 
  of it. Her gaze dips a bit from the young man's dark one, hesitant at her 
  answer, too truthful not to offer it. "I... function," she answers at last.

"I wish that I could change that," Salmalin says softly. He gazes down at the 
  woman before him now pained that she could not join him in enjoying this 
  respite from Haven. Brushing some grass from his hair he ventures, 
  "Functioning is seldom as fun as living. Even a Voice must laugh and smile 
  every once in a while... Have you had a swim beneath the waterfall yet? A 
  wonderfull experience I promise."

Green eyes above a gauzy azure veil lift up again, plaintively. She doesn't 
  smile; it can be seen, through this new veil of hers. Though her nose and 
  mouth are still blurred, they are more visible now than they were through 
  that thicker veil, the black one she wore in her mourning, and her 
  expression is as solemn and sad as it has ever been. And a trifle 
  embarrassed as well, as she begins, "I do not know how to swim--" A blush, 
  then, if the soft abrupt intake of breath and the ducking of her gaze is any 
  indication. "And I... do not know if I have ever really had... fun. There 
  are holes in my memory from my illness... but this, I remember."

Well then. Salmalin looks around, then at Faanshi and then the water. "As my 
  father always said, and he did say a lot, there is no time like the present. 
  Of course he was refering to work... so this should be so much easier." He 
  smiles a little, tilts his head and then reaches out for the woman's hand. 
  Hoping to grasp it just right he says, "You might have to take off your 
  veil, but I promise not to look.. with both eyes."

The maiden's hand is easily taken enough, and she even seems not to mind, but 
  most of her attention is caught up in her startled reaction to what Salmalin 
  seems to propose. "You suggest teaching me how to swim?" she blurts. Without 
  stammering. It isn't much of a change yet in her overall demeanor, but that 
  at least has held consistent ever since Faanshi's arrival in this place -- 
  that and her seemingly increased comfort with looking people in the eye. 
  "But... but can that be done in what garb I wear...? My leyang, my choli... 
  my silwar..."

Salmalin is already pulling Faanshi toward the water as she speaks and 
  suddenly he stops. "You are right," he says looking the woman over once 
  more. Shaking his head slightly he stands akimbo with a puzzled expression. 
  "You will have to remove them. Not that the Apisachi will mind... they are 
  rather liberal. Do not worry for them. If you leave them on the edge of the 
  water they will remain there." Then he smiles and starts to undo his pants, 
  preparing to enter the water.

A strange, strangled little noise escapes the healer then, and she freezes 
  there on the edge of the water, one hand clapped up to where her mouth must 
  be behind her veil, the other arm pulled tightly about herself. Despite 
  whatever small progress she has made in her bearing as of late, it can be 
  nothing but abject fear that surges over her now and squeezes almost all 
  volume out of her voice as she gasps, "I cannot--!" Not quite yet does 
  Faanshi flee, but if her stance is any sign, it may happen at any moment.

Salmalin looks up and still with his pants on looks as though someone had 
  taken away his puppy. It had seemed such a good idea at the time. On the 
  other hand... He lowers his head, "I am sorry. I thought it would help you 
  relax." How easy it was to think that perhaps here, amongst those who would 
  not care about the physical or Varati protocol. He draws his arms about 
  himself as well and then finally just sits down on the edge of where the 
  water meets the shore. "Maybe one day, hmm?" He kicks his feet in the water, 
  sighing softly.

Faanshi _has_ a puppy -- well, a rather large former puppy -- but somehow, the 
  girl manages the lost-a-puppy expression in almost every single one of her 
  waking moments. What _would_ it take, to drive that bereft look from her 
  eyes? "Forgive me," she whispers then, her gaze plummeted to her feet. "I... 
  do not think so, Salmalin." A pause. A heartbeat. Two. Three. And she 
  struggles with herself, trying to find a balance between her painful 
  nervousness and something that might eventually be self-confidence, if she 
  is ever shown how to give it space to grow. Slowly, swallowing hard, she 
  steps forward to the edge of the water and sinks down to kneel next to the 
  young Varati, her attention on her hands... but at least she has stepped 
  forward. "I am scared of the water," she murmurs humbly. "I... do not even 
  bathe with the other shudra."

Salmalin turns his gaze toward Faanshi as she kneels beside him. He does not 
  look so disappointed as he does sad. He never seems to do anything right. "I 
  did not mean to seem like I was forcing you.. I just.. I was hoping... Do 
  not ask me for forgiveness. I am the one at fault for not thinking, I was 
  inconsiderate." He turns away now, trying to put a smile onto his lips. He 
  watches the water as it moves over his feet, staring at the distortion of 
  his toes. Children are easy, they have no fears they cannot conquer in a few 
  minutes and they are always eager and trusting. But how do you teach a woman 
  who seems to know only fear? "Do you know why you are scared of the water?"

Upon this, the shudra must think for a few moments. And at last she breathes, 
  her brow furrowing as she gazes pensively into the rippling pool, "I... 
  think that part of it... is because I had never seen baths before I came to 
  Atesh-Gah... or pools, or... much water. And the rest..." Faanshi's voice 
  drops down to a stark, hollow whisper, here. "I expect... it is more that I 
  am afraid... others will see me."

"I will never understand women," Salmalin says as his sadness seems to grow. 
  "I think it a crime that a woman should have to hide her body or be ashamed 
  of it. An even worse crime for a man to be the cause. There is modesty, 
  there is demure and yet... to hide such beauty." He shakes his head and 
  continues to watch Faanshi as though watching a caged beast that should be 
  freed. He smiles sadly, "If that is the only problem, then I can lend you my 
  clothes.. they will fit. You can at least learn the basics of swimming, 
  enough to enjoy the waterfall."

Startled, Faanshi lifts up her gaze again to peek over at the young man beside 
  her, not quite certain of what she has just heard. It is not the first time 
  she has been called beautiful -- not even the first time she has been called 
  so by a Varati, though her mind shies sharply away from any thoughts of 
  Mehul. "I," she begins, and then she has to struggle to find the proper 
  thoughts to voice what is roiling through her memory. "You see... the other 
  shudra... some of them were shamed because I am a halfbreed..." And then she 
  pauses entirely, acute shyness visible in her face regardless of the veil. 
  "You would loan me your clothes, to show me the water...?"

Salmalin laughs and he has to take a breath before speaking. "Oh Faanshi.. 
  dear Faanshi.. I know so little of women, but of one thing I am sure: they 
  can be so cruel when threatened. There are exceptions of course, but most 
  are like cornered cats." Slowly he draws his legs up and hugs them to his 
  body, still smiling. He leans his head against his knees as his eyes close 
  slightly. "They were not shamed by your being a halfbreed. I am sure they 
  were threatened by your beauty and innocence. Unlike most you do not have to 
  work at being such. And yes, I would give you my clothes and go naked if it 
  meant allowing you to experience the freedom of water."

The maiden's brow furrows in a touch of confusion, now. She knows, all too 
  clearly, what the other shudra _said_ to her -- and it is an alien thing to 
  her, to consider that they might have been thinking something else entirely 
  even as they lashed out at her. But she is distracted swiftly away from 
  commenting on any such thing, at Salmalin's later words. A blush rises up 
  hotly in her cheeks, while she blurts, "You need not go n -- I mean, without 
  your clothes entirely -- but if there are clothes I can wear in the water... 
  I would gladly let you show me...!"

Salmalin grins, "Of course I would not do that without your permission. I just 
  meant that it was not out of the question. The Sylvan men have these loin 
  clothes that I could wear during.. that way your silks will not get ruined." 
  Sighing softly he unfolds himself, though avoids putting his feet back into 
  the water. If only he were more sure of himself. "I should remember to make 
  you blush more often."

"It's not hard," comes a sheepish whisper from behind the veil.
Wait a minute. Did Faanshi just make a _joke_?

Salmalin laughs regardless. It was just too cute. "Yes, but it is like the 
  first time every time I see it."

The shudra doesn't smile -- but something eases in her expression, just a 
  touch, as her head dips bashfully down a bit to divert her gaze away from 
  the kshatri's grin. It's rather strange, this notion that someone might 
  actually _like_ to see her blush. "I know I embarrass very easily," she 
  murmurs. Then she peers tentatively upward again, asking, "Should I wait 
  here, while you fetch the, um..."

Salmalin nods a little. "I think it is because you are so new to everything 
  except for pain," he muses quietly. After a final thoughtful glance he 
  stands and pauses only to say, "I will return shortly." With that he finds 
  the nearest man that he can and motions him toward the cave. They talk 
  briefly before the Varati man disappears into a cave. After several minutes 
  he returns with clothes in hand wearing only a soft leather loin clothe that 
  mostly covers the front and back. He is grinning oddly as he returns. 
  "Well.. it could be worse I suppose."

When Salmalin returns, Faanshi has risen to her feet and stands there 
  uncertainly with her zoris dangling from her fingers, and her bare toes 
  fidgeting unsurely against the earth. Her expression is confused again at 
  that enigmatic comment -- but at least for the time being, as she has 
  screwed up her courage to do this, she decides it's probably better not to 
  ask what he meant. "What should I do?" she inquires instead, shyly.

Salmalin offers up the folded clothing that he has in his hands: pants and a 
  shirt. He motions toward the cave. "You can change in there or here if you 
  want. When you return we will seek to conquer your fear of water. Or if that 
  is too much then we will at least succeed in getting you wet."

Faanshi cannot exactly disguise her nervousness; as always, the maiden is as 
  readable as any book, veil or no veil. But she bobs her head slowly, 
  accepting the garments she is handed and opting to slip shyly off to the 
  cave to remove herself from public sight as long as she is about to change 
  what she is wearing.
It does not take her particularly long, though she takes care to neatly fold 
  her leyang and her choli and her silwar, and to leave her zoris and veil 
  there with them. When she emerges from the cave, she is almost a different 
  creature in the borrowed shirt and pants... even more childlike than normal 
  of seeming, for all that she is far taller than any child would be. The 
  loaned garments are big on her slender frame, and she's had to roll the 
  sleeves and the legs of the pants up. And along with her now-short hair and 
  her enormous eyes, she could almost look no older than five or six.

There is of course a great difference between Faanshi and a child that goes 
  beyond her height. If not for her wearing his clothing Salmalin might have 
  mistaken her for someone else, but never a child. And it is the fact that he 
  knows it is Faanshi that he looks away as soon as he realizes. Not out of 
  shame or disgust does he do this. It is with respect and perhaps a hint of 
  fear that his eyes lower.

Unaccustomed to a man diverting his gaze from _her_, the young healer pauses 
  not far away, her lip tucking under her teeth. Her earlier claim, for all 
  that it was in jest, was not in error; she's blushing again. Still, somehow 
  Faanshi manages to muster enough courage to venture, "I... am ready, I 
  suppose...! What do I do?"

Salmalin smiles almost shyly and motions toward the water. He steps into the 
  shallow part that rises up to his knees, his hand coming out to offer 
  assistance to FAanshi. "Since you seem a stranger to water I thought we 
  should start with getting used to how it feels, how the body moves 
  differently. Then when you are used to it we can work on floating and 
  moving."

It is like coaxing a fawn out of a thicket, or a wild bird to come and accept 
  grain from one's palm, the manner of Faanshi's creeping forward into the 
  pool. The first thing that strikes her is the _temperature_; this water, 
  though it is warmed by the clement summer sun, is rather cooler than the 
  baths of Atesh-Gah, though she is accustomed to dipping herself into one 
  shallow corner of those at odd hours of the night when the waters have lost 
  some of the heat given them by the mages whose job it is to maintain them. 
  Trustingly her sungolden fingers come forward to Salmalin's, though her 
  delicate features crinkle in consternation as the water rises around her. 
  "All right," she murmurs, peeking this way and that.

Still his gaze remains oddly avoiding of her features as he smiles. His hand 
  closes gently around her hand for support. "At least I did not try throwing 
  you in without warning," he teases lightly. Ever so slowly, though he starts 
  to move toward the deeper part of the water. "The water will seem cold until 
  you start to move and as air catches in the clothing it may seem worse at 
  times, but it will be okay. Tell me when it gets hard for you to keep your 
  feet on the bottom."
 While it may seem normal to be teaching Faanshi how to swim, there are those 
  in the camp that seem bewildered. Some of the children and even a few adults 
  stop to watch.

The dark-haired maiden bobs her head nervously, edging further and further out 
  into the pool and peering down towards her own feet even as Salmalin guides 
  her into the deepest portion. "I feel mud and rocks," she murmurs, her voice 
  edging up a little higher in pitch as the water creeps higher along her 
  slender frame. It may well be fortunate that she hasn't yet noticed that she 
  and her fellow Speaker are attracting an audience.

"That is good. Eventually you will not feel them as much and the water will 
  seem like it is trying to drag you down. Do not worry... I will keep a hold 
  of your hand for now," Salmalin says gently as he ignores those watching. 
  Right now Faanshi is the center of his attention, especially if she should 
  decide to panic. "Once we are deep enough I will let you float in the water 
  for a little."

Within Salmalin's grasp the shudra's slender fingers tremble ever so slightly, 
  but her grip is otherwise sure -- and _that_ seems to be the only sign of 
  uneasiness she allows herself for the time being, that and a certain look 
  about her eyes of more uncertainty than usual for her. Her unveiled face 
  grows a little more alarmed as the water reaches her chest and then her 
  shoulders... and once froth from the waterfall reaches her mouth, she 
  splutters and gasps out tinily, "The bottom... it is slipping under my 
  toes... this is proper?" And as she utters this, her grip abruptly tightens, 
  in punctuation to her words.

It is now that Salmalin stops, drawing Faanshi slightly back so the water is 
  not attacking her face completely. He offers a bit of reassurance with a 
  squeeze of his hand. "Yes.. we are getting to the deeper part now. This 
  should be fine, though. Now I want you to take a deep breath and then lean 
  back. I know it will seem frightening at first, but if you hold your breath 
  you should float for a little while."

The shudra's eyes go wide, and with her expression bared to view for once it's 
  all too easy to read her nervousness in her face -- if, that is, one should 
  chance to look at her directly. That Salmalin seems to be inclined to avoid 
  doing so does help her keep at least a few shreds of composure, however, and 
  for all that she is not at all sure about this notion he proposes, she gasps 
  out a tiny assent and hauls a breath into her lungs. Then, cautiously, she 
  starts to try to tilt her head back towards the surface of the water.

There is a smile and the desire to see the expression upon Faanshi's face, but 
  Salmalin controls himself. With that unfocused gaze he makes sure that she 
  does not go beneath the water and his hand remains steady should she require 
  assistance. "Very good. As you go back, let your legs rise up from the 
  bottom. Water will probably roll over your face, but do not worry. Once you 
  get used to that we can work on just letting you move around on your own."

Easier said than done, it seems to the halfbreed girl even as she tries to do 
  as she's been instructed. But her balance is less than sure in this foreign 
  environment, and with a little cry she tips over at a wrong angle. Faanshi's 
  hands flail about as she tries to regain her own balance. "Are you 
  _sure_--aah!"

Salmalin takes in a sharp breath and tries to help Faanshi as best he can. 
  "Just let your legs fall to the bottom! Do not flail your arms so wildly." 
  He squints as water starts getting splashed at him from the woman's wild 
  arm. "I will not let you drown..." Please know that, try to relax, he says 
  quietly to himself.

One slender hand grabs reflexively onto Salmalin's nearest shoulder, and with 
  her eyes squeezed shut against the water she's splashed into her own face, 
  Faanshi struggles back into a more or less standing position, her feet 
  slipping and sliding on the bottom until she's still again. "I'm sorry," she 
  mumbles tinily, spluttering. With her other hand, she reaches to try to push 
  strands of wet black hair out of her face.

"Do not be sorry.. Faanshi.. You need to learn that not everything is bad," 
  Salmalin reassures the woman quietly. With a smile he just shakes his head. 
  "Swimming is not that hard unless you are scared.. just like with everything 
  else. Most of the time it is fear that harms a person, not the endeavor they 
  are seeking to accomplish. If you want we can go back to the shallower part 
  and you can play in the water." With that he tries to slip from beneath her 
  hand, slowly swimming back toward the shore. "Kick your legs and use your 
  arms to pull you through the water... Like this," he says as he swims away a 
  little.

For just a moment the maiden blinks, taken aback by something in Salmalin's 
  words, enough that she doesn't seem overly alarmed when he pulls away from 
  her. In a small plaintive voice she protests then, "I don't think... 
  _everything_ is bad..." And then she tries to snap her attention to what the 
  young Varati is doing, her brow crinkling underneath her now dampened hair. 
  Awkwardly, she tries to mimic his movements... though it means that she more 
  simply walks with wide-pulling arms, rather than actually _swims_.

Salmalin stops a little and raises a brow. "Is that so? Then why do you always 
  walk like someone is waiting to beat you with a stick," he calls to the 
  woman. "And use your legs. Kick them up and down as you pull with your 
  arms." He then starts to swim again toward shore as if daring her to catch 
  up with him.

That the kshatri man is clearly more comfortable in the water than she is all 
  too obvious -- and Faanshi tries not to wonder whether this is a consequence 
  of his being a man, a kshatri, or just simply _Salmalin_. It's all she can 
  do to try to come even close to matching what he is doing, and before she 
  manages to reach shallower water she slips and goes under a single time. By 
  then the water is not too deep and she shoots back up again almost as 
  quickly as she submerges, but her expression is distinctly rattled...
... and not entirely by just the water. She goes still with the water up to 
  her chest, blinking water out of her eyes, and absolutely at a loss as to 
  how exactly to answer that.
Finally she settles for simple, honest truth: "I... suppose that... it must be 
  because I still expect that someone _will_." A pause, then she goes on in a 
  smaller tone, "Beat me." Another pause, and in a smaller voice yet, "With a 
  stick."

When she goes under, Salmalin is already swimming toward her. He had stopped 
  to make another comment and then panicked himself. When she comes back up 
  quickly he lets out a nervous laugh, then closes the distance between them. 
  "Faanshi. No one will beat you with a stick.. Not if I am around." And for 
  now he has no real thoughts of leaving her side. She is the Voice and he 
  is.. well.. along for the ride. He smiles a little and then adds, "Besides. 
  There is also Kosha and you are in favor with Khalid Atar and the Maharani. 
  You are protected... and should that not be enough then we can teach you to 
  defend yourself. You are strong and smart... making you dangerous if you 
  should decide you are tired of being afraid."

For just a moment Faanshi just stands there, her arms involuntarily wrapping 
  around herself, as she stares in something like shock at Salmalin and seems 
  to just let his words soak into her as the water is soaking her frame. Her 
  mouth opens. Then closes. And finally she whispers, very tinily, "I _am_ 
  tired, Salmalin. So... very tired, inside my heart. Tired of everything 
  hurting, of..." As she speaks, her voice begins to roughen, her eyes to go 
  dark and distant. But she doesn't stop. "Of having a... little bit of joy 
  and then having it go away again... each time worse than before... I don't 
  know how to heal it and I don't know how to make it go away and I _am_ 
  tired...!"
Tired, and yet, bracing herself stoically as any Agni-Haidar even here in the 
  middle of the pool. Her slender shoulders square off. Her mouth, bared for 
  once to the world, tightens into a tiny line; her eyes close again, though 
  not quite as desperately as they'd done to keep the water out of them.

Salmalin is standing there now before Faanshi having closed the distance 
  between them. As she speaks his features grow somber, his expression nearing 
  her own. When she finishes he does something he had been wanting to do for 
  so long: he attempts to hug the woman. It is not a small embrace, but one 
  that wraps tightly around her as if he wished to pour into her all of his 
  protection through the touch of his arms. "Then let go.." he whispers. "Let 
  go of the pain, the sorrow... live in the moment. Or hold them so tightly 
  within you that they are crushed into nothing but faint memories of another 
  life. Nothing is constant, nothing is forever."

If she would let herself think about it, it might occur to Faanshi that to be 
  embraced like this has almost inevitably led to her losing someone who has 
  grown dear. Indeed, she feels her thoughts begin to spiral in that very 
  direction -- and only with a hard effort does she rein them in again, for at 
  the same time, she can feel her entire frame reacting with a visceral need 
  for the offered comfort. She begins to tremble, though she does not pull out 
  of Salmalin's arms; her own move to hug him in return, gingerly at first, 
  then in an all too palpable need she doesn't seem to ever let herself 
  actually put into words. "Let go?" she blurts, her voice growing unsteady as 
  well as the rest of her. "That... that is what the Amir-al said to me in the 
  Temple... that I should let my pain... fill me... like a death wound and 
  then let it go but if I start, I, I... I am not sure I will be able to 
  stop...!"

Relief. Salmalin feels relief and joy as his comfort is accepted. His breath 
  is drawn in shakingly at first, but he remains still in light of her fragile 
  state. He would gladly take her pain, her sorrow if it meant seeing her 
  happy. But does that ever solve anything? "Even the God-King himself has 
  told you... Oh Faanshi.. I wish you did not hurt so, but it will get worse 
  before it gets better. You must confront your pain.. let it course through 
  you instead of muting it. But with pain comes joy. You must remember that 
  there were good times, there was joy and happiness.. that is your weapon.. 
  that is how you start to heal. When it starts to get dark remember the 
  happiness you have felt and remember that nothing can take that away, it is 
  stronger than the pain."

The halfbreed maiden makes a small choked gasp in the back of her throat, 
  unthinkingly pressing her disheveled head against Salmalin's shoulder and 
  shivering now in the protective circle of his arms. "Happy things," she 
  mumbles, just a trifle desperately, her voice carrying a strain that hints 
  of her trying to keep herself from cracking apart. "I can do that... I 
  think... it will help?" The desperation sharpens, putting a plea into her 
  voice that makes up for her face being out of immediate sight.

Salmalin nods slightly. "Yes.. it helps.. to remember the smiles, the gentle 
  touches and the laughter. You may think that because they are gone that it 
  is sad, but are they truly gone if you can remember them and smile when you 
  do so?" He reaches up to stroke Faanshi's hair gently and then he adds, "If 
  you could be happy once before than you can be happy again.. Pain is 
  temporary.. like a wound that you heal."

The short dark strands have gotten heavier with the weight of the water, and 
  are plastered now against the young healer's head, accentuating the shape of 
  her bowed neck and the small mangled ear closest to that gently stroking 
  hand. Another shudder passes through Faanshi, even as she struggles to calm 
  herself and enact the advice she has been given. Most of her heart screams 
  that it doesn't _seem_ that she can ever be happy again, but the rest of it, 
  thirsty for peace, latches onto the first happy memories she can bring to 
  mind. "Learning music," she gulps. "And getting Kosha, and... and riding to 
  Avalon... and... seeing Imphada Kiera, my very first dawn...!"

Nothing is said, nothing at all. It is not Salmalin's place to intrude now. He 
  merely holds her, listening and comforting. There is a smile as she mentions 
  her happiest memories, his mind imagining what it must be like.

More of them come out, in bits and whispered pieces. Learning to write. The 
  Amir-al taking her away from someone she calls only 'the Warlord'. The first 
  time someone within Atesh-Gah honored her with permission to use her magic 
  upon them... and somewhere in the midst of it all, a tiny glimmer of 
  something that might almost be pride, as she speaks of her magic. The one 
  aspect of herself that she knows she can command. As it all creeps out of 
  her, fretful little shivers run through her frame, and a wetness that has 
  nothing to do with the pool in which she stands begins to trickle against 
  the Varati man's bared shoulder.

And it does not bother Salmalin. He continues to just listen, stroking 
  Faanshi's wet hair. Around them, on the edges of the camp, Sylvans stop to 
  watch with quiet whispers. But even they are polite enough to move on after 
  a small while, continuing with chores that must be done before nightfall.

At last Faanshi hauls in a shuddering breath and lifts her head, as it begins 
  to sink into her consciousness that she is standing in a pool, being held by 
  a man who is as wet as she and rather significantly less attired. Shyness 
  begins to flood into her face, and she lifts up a hand to scrub at her eyes 
  with them, though she doesn't yet move. "Thank you," she breathes then, 
  somewhere behind that hand.

There is a quiet laugh from Salmalin and he shakes his head. "Do not thank 
  me... I have done nothing more than stand here. It is you that have done the 
  hard work." His embrace does not lessen just yet as he looks out toward the 
  waterfall. After a thoughtful biting of his lip he comments, "We should 
  probably get out of the water soon... get you into some dry clothes and some 
  food into you."

She doesn't look exactly _happy_... not yet. Mostly, Faanshi looks shy, and 
  embarrassed, neither of which are new expressions for her; however, there is 
  just a fraction less tension in her face and in her frame now. "All right," 
  she murmurs in a small voice. And then she pauses, and thinks, and finally 
  peeks upward. "I feel a little better," she offers.

Salmalin smiles and then lets his arms fall from around Faanshi. He turns to 
  look back at the shore, still avoiding looking directly at her face. "I am 
  glad.. because when you a little more better we will come out here again and 
  try to teach you how to swim. Do not think I will forget." He grins, then 
  splashes Faanshi a little as he starts toward shore.

A strange little expression quirks the maiden's mouth, not quite a smile, at 
  the splash. And although she still moves as if entirely out of her element 
  in the pool, she even makes a miniscule splash of her own in Salmalin's 
  direction. The moment she does her gaze drops shyly, and she focuses upon 
  wading out to join him on the bank. As she does, the weight of the borrowed 
  clothes begins to pull at her frame, and with one clumsy hand, she tries to 
  wring some of the water out of the shirt.

Salmalin grins and shakes off the water that clings to his skin. After running 
  a hand through his hair he starts toward the fire that burns brightly as the 
  sky begins to darken slightly. It is a bright smile that comes to his lips 
  at the sight of roasting meat and the smell of stew. "Better hurry and 
  change," he calls back to Faanshi as he is handed a stick of meat. "Unless 
  you want to eat wet," he adds around a mouthful.

She doesn't, not particularly, though as she clambers out into the chilling 
  air the halfbreed finds herself rather more concerned about the temperature 
  than she does food or any lack thereof. So too does she become conscious of 
  Salmalin's mostly unclad form, and the vivid hues of the tattoo across his 
  back; stricken anew by shyness, she bobs her head a single time in 
  acknowledgement and hastens off into the cave.
It is some minutes before she emerges again, once again wearing her own silks, 
  her veil restored for all that her hair is still bared to the air, the 
  leyang simply wound around her frame rather than coming up to cover her head 
  as well. Gingerly she carries Salmalin's borrowed clothing, not at all sure 
  what to do with them, or where she might put them so that they can properly 
  dry. Her attention goes to the cookfire and the members of the tribe 
  gathered around it, and all at once, too, she is stricken by further 
  shyness. Had they seen her, these Sylvans, in the pool? What did they think 
  of it? And what would they think of her now?

Salmalin smiles as Faanshi returns, motioning toward the food. "You really 
  should try this.. it is wonderful. Very tasty." He grins and then goes back 
  to eating, not treating Faanshi any differently. However, the Varati man 
  does stand to take the clothing from her and then he moves to lay them 
  across a rock to dry. When he returns he is finishing off the last of the 
  meat.
The Sylvans on the other hand are quiet save for a few murmured greetings. 
  They say nothing about what occurred between the two Varati. One of the 
  women around the fire offer a bowl of stew to Faanshi, motioning to the 
  berries and roots set close by.

Not exactly a scintillating conversationalist among strangers at the best of 
  times, and not exactly at her best at the moment regardless, Faanshi seems 
  almost prone to flee right back into the cave from which she'd emerged... 
  and yet, something keeps her out there, striving to at least find enough 
  bravery to look the Apisachi in the eye, to thank them earnestly for the 
  fare she is given, and even to offer to clean bowls when she has taken what 
  she will. None seem inclined to deny her the opportunity to work, and it 
  doesn't take her very long to eat a modest portion and then to apply herself 
  to the task of dishes. It gets her more than one strange look, though if it 
  crosses the mind of any of the others present that there is a distinct 
  oddity in one who is supposedly an ambassador working like a servant girl, 
  no one actually brings it up.
And through it all, the girl keeps peeking uncertainly at Salmalin, wondering 
  if the advice he has given her is something he has had to learn himself. And 
  at last she materializes at his elbow, waiting until he has a break from 
  chatting with one of the tribe's hunters before she murmurs tentatively to 
  him, "May I ask..."

Of course Salmalin lets Faanshi do what she pleases. He watches once in a 
  while, but really he just tries not to get in the way. Once in a while he 
  goes to check and see if his clothes are dry, but it seems it will take 
  longer than expected. As Faanshi turns up near him he turns to her, smiling. 
  "You can ask whatever you like..."

Somehow, Faanshi manages not to be too stunned by that one little freedom 
  alone -- but still, her expression is odd behind the translucent blue veil. 
  For once she even looks Salmalin in the face, for that is a safer place to 
  look than his bare tattooed torso. "I just was... wondering," she says, very 
  quietly, barely loud enough for the Varati man to hear, "if these things you 
  have said to me today... just... where they came from. None have ever said 
  such things to me before."

Salmalin has to lean in closer as she whispers her question. It is clear that 
  he does not catch all of it, but he hears enough to understand. His smile 
  fades a bit into something sad as he takes in a breath. "Then they have 
  never felt pain before," he replies, his own voice above a whisper. Running 
  a hand through his growing hair he stares down at the ground. "It is no 
  secret that I have a fondness for women... usually it is just physical, but 
  sometimes.. sometimes it is more. Emotions are dangerous.. love even more so 
  and when you are young it is even worse." Laughing now he looks up at 
  Faanshi and shakes his head. "I sound like an old man.. forgive me. To put 
  it simply.. I have felt what it feels like to be alone, completely and 
  wholly until it seems there is nothing but emptiness. You cannot breathe, 
  eat, move.. it feels like someone has ripped your heart from your chest and 
  then made you decide whether to eat it or throw it away."

Whether it is out of respect for their conversation or out of simple wish to 
  put distance between themselves and the strangers from the Varati, the 
  shudra woman and the kshatri man gain a circle of privacy as the supper 
  gathering breaks up and the members of the tribe go their various ways with 
  the coming of night. Faanshi peeks after some of them, gleaning what she can 
  from her shy observations even though she has not yet mustered the courage 
  to regularly speak with any of them.
With Salmalin, though, perhaps some crucial barrier has been breached. For 
  although she is as shy as ever, she is... _talking_.
"But it has gotten better for you?" she murmurs. And then, with a childlike, 
  plaintive curiosity, "How... old _are_ you?"

Moving over a little, Salmalin offers Faanshi a seat beside him, not wanting 
  her to stand for too long. When he is settled again he draws his legs to him 
  and wraps his arms about to keep them close. "Yes.. It was hard at first. I 
  could not understand why it happened. I thought I was being punished for 
  something. I tried not caring, I tried ignoring or hiding, but none of it 
  worked.. there was always that shadow of fear lurking around me." He has to 
  think about his age now, his chin tapping against his knee as he calculates. 
  "Twenty-five years, almost twenty-six soon. It does not feel like it has 
  been so long.. I am getting old."

The healer settles down not far away, falling out of habit into a kneeling 
  position upon the earth, without any evident concern for her knees. "That is 
  not old," she says in bemused tones, then, her brow crinkling. She falls 
  silent again, staring down at her hands, before timorously appending, "I 
  thought that perhaps the Amir-al or His Holy Father were punishing me... but 
  the Amir-al said no. It is... hard not to think that way...!"

"It is old enough," Salmalin says with a bit of a smile. He finds it hard to 
  think that time has passed and even he has changed. There is a nod of 
  agreement at her last words. "Sometimes it seems that we punish ourselves 
  more. Never really forgiving or forgetting when the rest of the world has 
  already. In the end we are our own worst enemies."

It is growing darker, and as it does Faanshi's features grow more indistinct 
  beneath her veil. But her eyes are still visible, tossing back tiny glimmers 
  of illumination from the distant firepit, and her voice paradoxically 
  perhaps grows clearer albeit no louder; perhaps she gains a little bit more 
  assurance with the added protection of darkness. "I have never thought that 
  I could be my own enemy," comes her whisper. "I am... not bold. It seems 
  strange to me that I would... fight."

Salmalin laughs quietly and leans back a little further, his eyes closing 
  lazily. "Faanshi you are as dangerous as a sleeping tiger. Compared to a 
  warrior you are not bold, but for the image you portray you are more than 
  you appear. It is sure that you perhaps do not realize your potential yet, 
  but it is there." He smiles, then takes in a deep breath, finding the 
  falling night quite nice.

For a long moment the healer is silent. And then at last she looks up again, 
  her gaze turned strangely intent for once, full of deep consideration. "To 
  others I have been a dove," Faanshi murmurs, "but to you, I am a tiger... 
  the ways of a shudra are not the ways of a Speaker. Ever since I came back 
  from the Ettowealona, I have been confused inside, my memories battered, my 
  _self_... blurred..." The halfbreed's eyes focus fully upon Salmalin now, 
  absolutely somber. "But you are helping me."

"Perhaps they were blurred because you have yet to discover who you really 
  are," Salmalin muses quietly. For now he keeps his eyes closed and his 
  demeanor much like one who is getting read for sleep. It is hard to tell, 
  however, as he continues to keep pace with the conversation. "But I am glad 
  that I am helping you. It is the least I can do after all that you have done 
  for me. Besides.. I have a feeling that you are going to need some resolve 
  when dealing with these Apisachi."

"I need to bring you back to Atesh-Gah," says the shudra, nervously. "The 
  Maharani _did_ say... but I am afraid of saying the wrong thing to the 
  Apisachi. They don't like having us here... and I am afraid of failing." She 
  pauses. And then she asks anxiously, "Tomorrow... may we speak together, of 
  what to say to the Sachem?"

Salmalin winces almost and sighs then. "Yes.. tomorrow we can discuss what you 
  will say to the Sachem. I think for now I should sleep. It has been a long 
  day." Opening his eyes he smiles to Faanshi and then starts to rise. "Have a 
  goodnight Faanshi."

The girl rises as well, though she is unsure exactly where to place her gaze 
  -- and at last, again, it settles upon the face of the young Varati. It is 
  difficult to see whether she smiles, though one could conclude that, given 
  her recent moods, she does not. Her eyes do lighten a bit nevertheless. "I 
  shall try to do so," she promises in grave tones, and then at last she shyly 
  adds, "Thank you, Salmalin... the day has been long but... something that 
  isn't _bad_." On these last words, her soft voice might almost even be 
  taking on a tone of contentment.

Salmalin bows slightly and then says, "I hope you wake in more cheerful tones 
  Faanshi. Sleep well." He smiles, then turns toward the forest, making his 
  way out of the camp almost as quietly as if he were Sylvan himself.

[End log.]