09-03-2016, 03:49 PM
She was right. There weren't many of his kind whom the black disserviced. Not that Jai thought he was lacking before, but he was rather attached to the look now that it was thrust on him. Whatever extra perks came with it? He took them too. He needed every bloody perk he could wring out of the remainder of his days.
Literal counting subsided and was predictably replaced with line after line of numbers behind that steely upward-focused gaze. Those tiles faded from his sight anyway. He didn't need to finish counting to know the answer. He had no doubt. It had to be. It was so obvious. Why else would the design be so beautiful?
"Seven hundred thirty and seventy-three hundredth inches."
For quite the specific number it rolled from lips caught in the awe of labyrinthine coincidence. The Law of Parsimony would disagree with his assessment. He tried not to think about its dissent. Simplest explanations were usually the most plausible. Bloody burn the Law of Economy. Such perspectives kept him alive this long.
Complexities were everywhere. If one were inclined to look. He usually wasn't so easily caught in their tangles but for a thread otherwise filled with violence, he clung to soothing repetition wherever he could find it. More now that he was so reminded by what normalcy should be and it kicked otherwise controlled equilibrium far off balance.
With the easy math finished in his head, self-satisfaction accompanied his explanation. As did his scanning the mosaic, seeking some message sure to be hidden inside their shapes as well. Still not yet checking to see who it was he addressed.
"It's repeated. Divide by seven. The result is another repeat."
Something about vocalizing the revelation kicked away the remainder of fraying control. Like some bloody grinding wheel furrowing down a blade that just would never be sharp enough. He couldn't think the number fast enough. That beautiful. Soothing. Compulsory number. His lids slid down as heartbeat sped up. There was nothing but the repetition. Like running on the surface of the sun. It burned, but was glorious to chase. So much so, a line of sweat beaded beneath that upturned collar of the Dragon's black legion. Until he realized that heat was not from the disabling intrusion of the number's perfection. It was Saidin. Peace!
He exhaled and threw the Power from this death-grip. He'd near to summoned the very brink of his limit and searched the index of recent memories for the instant he'd taken hold. Fearfully, Jai found no such memory. It'd been years; Years! since he lost it like that. The shock of it blinked wan normalcy back to his face. He was not the most subtle of channelers. Who knew how he must have looked?
The past day had been a tumultuous coup on his life. That flickering hope of Jasline's beautiful face carried him through many a dark hour. She was good as gone now. Or worse, married over elsewhere. With bloody adorable children. Duty. Parents. Jon. Cobbler. Tomdry. None of it mattered. Not for himself. He'd accepted mortality ages ago. Yes?
Through the torrent of these few minutes, he remembered a feminine voice at his side. He turned toward it now. If it was still there. And when he settled on her hollowed eyes, pale as the morning light, coveted breath caught in his lungs. He blinked.
"Wow."
Awe just slipped out, quietly.
Wrenching away, he looked further down. Great, just bloody great. An Accepted. A light-forsaken, stunning Accepted. Did she have to be stunning? At least Fate Sedai had been an equal, their terms greatly different. This was the White Tower itself, not a place to drown reality in golden ale as it had been in the tavern. The Creator's great joke on his life just never quite ended.
Quickly, he corrected his stolen breath with an intake of breath and bowed slightly, touching hilt then heart. Not even Zakar could have bowed any better. A Malkieri custom, long dead in the north, but not for the Kojima family. No matching accent accompanied his greeting, however.
"Forgive, Accepted."
Meeting a woman's eyes as he had was beyond rude. Let alone bloody fawning all over her. He had no choice but to cast off the shame and reach for the comfort of ko'di. Hoping Fate would hurry so he could get the bloody well out of here. Even a Razor may not be worth this.
Literal counting subsided and was predictably replaced with line after line of numbers behind that steely upward-focused gaze. Those tiles faded from his sight anyway. He didn't need to finish counting to know the answer. He had no doubt. It had to be. It was so obvious. Why else would the design be so beautiful?
"Seven hundred thirty and seventy-three hundredth inches."
For quite the specific number it rolled from lips caught in the awe of labyrinthine coincidence. The Law of Parsimony would disagree with his assessment. He tried not to think about its dissent. Simplest explanations were usually the most plausible. Bloody burn the Law of Economy. Such perspectives kept him alive this long.
Complexities were everywhere. If one were inclined to look. He usually wasn't so easily caught in their tangles but for a thread otherwise filled with violence, he clung to soothing repetition wherever he could find it. More now that he was so reminded by what normalcy should be and it kicked otherwise controlled equilibrium far off balance.
With the easy math finished in his head, self-satisfaction accompanied his explanation. As did his scanning the mosaic, seeking some message sure to be hidden inside their shapes as well. Still not yet checking to see who it was he addressed.
"It's repeated. Divide by seven. The result is another repeat."
Something about vocalizing the revelation kicked away the remainder of fraying control. Like some bloody grinding wheel furrowing down a blade that just would never be sharp enough. He couldn't think the number fast enough. That beautiful. Soothing. Compulsory number. His lids slid down as heartbeat sped up. There was nothing but the repetition. Like running on the surface of the sun. It burned, but was glorious to chase. So much so, a line of sweat beaded beneath that upturned collar of the Dragon's black legion. Until he realized that heat was not from the disabling intrusion of the number's perfection. It was Saidin. Peace!
He exhaled and threw the Power from this death-grip. He'd near to summoned the very brink of his limit and searched the index of recent memories for the instant he'd taken hold. Fearfully, Jai found no such memory. It'd been years; Years! since he lost it like that. The shock of it blinked wan normalcy back to his face. He was not the most subtle of channelers. Who knew how he must have looked?
The past day had been a tumultuous coup on his life. That flickering hope of Jasline's beautiful face carried him through many a dark hour. She was good as gone now. Or worse, married over elsewhere. With bloody adorable children. Duty. Parents. Jon. Cobbler. Tomdry. None of it mattered. Not for himself. He'd accepted mortality ages ago. Yes?
Through the torrent of these few minutes, he remembered a feminine voice at his side. He turned toward it now. If it was still there. And when he settled on her hollowed eyes, pale as the morning light, coveted breath caught in his lungs. He blinked.
"Wow."
Awe just slipped out, quietly.
Wrenching away, he looked further down. Great, just bloody great. An Accepted. A light-forsaken, stunning Accepted. Did she have to be stunning? At least Fate Sedai had been an equal, their terms greatly different. This was the White Tower itself, not a place to drown reality in golden ale as it had been in the tavern. The Creator's great joke on his life just never quite ended.
Quickly, he corrected his stolen breath with an intake of breath and bowed slightly, touching hilt then heart. Not even Zakar could have bowed any better. A Malkieri custom, long dead in the north, but not for the Kojima family. No matching accent accompanied his greeting, however.
"Forgive, Accepted."
Meeting a woman's eyes as he had was beyond rude. Let alone bloody fawning all over her. He had no choice but to cast off the shame and reach for the comfort of ko'di. Hoping Fate would hurry so he could get the bloody well out of here. Even a Razor may not be worth this.
Only darkness shows you the light.