04-25-2015, 11:14 AM
"So long as I do be holding the flows, the entrapment remains,"
Tarin explained. He circled his would-be prey.
"You would be in trouble now, if I meant you harm. Luckily, I be here to teach, no be the cause of evil. Take care with such power. Of the two of us, I be the stronger, but there no be telling how much a man can wield this power until he shows you. He often do no be knowing himself until time reveals."
Tarin dropped the flows and Jaxen fell to his own two feet once more.
"Now shape up, lad. You will be getting yourself killed unless your guard be raised. Drink too much of this power before you be strong enough to wield it and you will die as fast as by any arrow to the heart."
As soon as Jaxen was freed, he retreated a step or two. Call it personal space, although he was keenly aware Tarin had no need for proximity to make a point known. "Alright! I'm not fond of being stabbed in the chest or smothered to death by power."
Even as he spoke the gears were turning, however. Tarin just taught him how to overcome another Ancient. Although with one major caveat - they had to be weaker than him. Jaxen quite clearly recalled the ominious presence looming like a thundercloud when Michael meant to kill him in the moments before Tony interferred. Forget dexterity and control, both those guys had the leg up on him. Which left one question that begged to be asked, "Alright, Tarin. How do I get stronger than another Ancient?"
Jaxen acted as though his defenses relaxed, but Tarin's guard remained wary. The lad had proven himself mistrustful more than once in their brief time together.
"An ancient can no control the limits of his strength any more than they can control how tall they do grow. You be born with your strength. It be up to you to reach it. That do come in time with practice and great need."
Tarin was hesitant to turn his back on the lad, but he had to gather the weaves to generate the boy's return.
"And our time has come to its end. I deem you capable to survive your Age, if you be wise."
he said matter-of-factly.
The flows were inverted, invisible even to himself, although he sensed their manifestation. There were rules about such things, what information he could and could not impart to future Ancients. The way in and out of this room was forbidden.
So there was no telling how strong he would become until he reached that pinnacle on his own. Well, if anything Jaxen was good at, it was mastering the art of whatever craft he pursued: tricks, stealing, dancing, driving. They all required practice and patience.
On one hand, he was relieved when Tarin said he could go home, but curiosity made him want to explore. While Tarin was distracted, he swiped the trinket he spied earlier into one pocket. A light sweep of air brushed the back of his neck, and when he turned, the doorway had reappeared. Once more, the hair-thin band of red seemed to stand on its own, but unlike previously when Jaxen assumed it was bolted into the floor, he now suspected that it was crafted of pure power, although he saw no evidence of such.
He turned before passing through the invisible passage. "Just how ancient are we Ancients?"
Jaxen turned to ask a question Tarin was limited to answer. He clasped his hands before him,
"Since the beginning of time."
, he declared. His service was complete.
Tarin explained. He circled his would-be prey.
"You would be in trouble now, if I meant you harm. Luckily, I be here to teach, no be the cause of evil. Take care with such power. Of the two of us, I be the stronger, but there no be telling how much a man can wield this power until he shows you. He often do no be knowing himself until time reveals."
Tarin dropped the flows and Jaxen fell to his own two feet once more.
"Now shape up, lad. You will be getting yourself killed unless your guard be raised. Drink too much of this power before you be strong enough to wield it and you will die as fast as by any arrow to the heart."
As soon as Jaxen was freed, he retreated a step or two. Call it personal space, although he was keenly aware Tarin had no need for proximity to make a point known. "Alright! I'm not fond of being stabbed in the chest or smothered to death by power."
Even as he spoke the gears were turning, however. Tarin just taught him how to overcome another Ancient. Although with one major caveat - they had to be weaker than him. Jaxen quite clearly recalled the ominious presence looming like a thundercloud when Michael meant to kill him in the moments before Tony interferred. Forget dexterity and control, both those guys had the leg up on him. Which left one question that begged to be asked, "Alright, Tarin. How do I get stronger than another Ancient?"
Jaxen acted as though his defenses relaxed, but Tarin's guard remained wary. The lad had proven himself mistrustful more than once in their brief time together.
"An ancient can no control the limits of his strength any more than they can control how tall they do grow. You be born with your strength. It be up to you to reach it. That do come in time with practice and great need."
Tarin was hesitant to turn his back on the lad, but he had to gather the weaves to generate the boy's return.
"And our time has come to its end. I deem you capable to survive your Age, if you be wise."
he said matter-of-factly.
The flows were inverted, invisible even to himself, although he sensed their manifestation. There were rules about such things, what information he could and could not impart to future Ancients. The way in and out of this room was forbidden.
So there was no telling how strong he would become until he reached that pinnacle on his own. Well, if anything Jaxen was good at, it was mastering the art of whatever craft he pursued: tricks, stealing, dancing, driving. They all required practice and patience.
On one hand, he was relieved when Tarin said he could go home, but curiosity made him want to explore. While Tarin was distracted, he swiped the trinket he spied earlier into one pocket. A light sweep of air brushed the back of his neck, and when he turned, the doorway had reappeared. Once more, the hair-thin band of red seemed to stand on its own, but unlike previously when Jaxen assumed it was bolted into the floor, he now suspected that it was crafted of pure power, although he saw no evidence of such.
He turned before passing through the invisible passage. "Just how ancient are we Ancients?"
Jaxen turned to ask a question Tarin was limited to answer. He clasped his hands before him,
"Since the beginning of time."
, he declared. His service was complete.