Valarian tried to relax when he finally lay in his bed. It was past midnight and it bothered him greatly that he had taken him ridiculously long to finish his paperwork today. He hadn't made it to the training grounds either. It must have been the first time in years that he didn't get physical practice in a day. He was slacking off, all because of that novice who was messing with his head. And Mitaro. He had followed the soldier he had sent to the Master of Students, and found out the boy's mentor was Asha'man Thaniel of Shen al'N'dore al'mordero. Valarian didn't want to jump to conclusions but it really bothered him that the boy could damage his reputation. He hoped his punishment had tought him not to mock the Rei al'Aman Val but it could also have the opposite effect. He sighed. Worrying about it was no use at all. He slowed down his breath and soon felt sleep embrace his mind.
In Tel'Aran'Rhiod he overlooked the empty Training Grounds. He thought of something he hadn't done in many years. At first creating an image of a person had been extremely difficult, but it had become easier over the years. The puppet he created resmbled Valarian but had a head like a straw filled practice doll. Like himself the imaginary sparring partner had a blunt longsword in it's hand. Many years ago he had often made an imaginary sparring partner like this, to practice control in the dreamworld, and to practice swordforms. It gave different possibilities because a real living opponent has a mind of it's own and makes unpredictible moves. This mindless doll on the other hand did exactly as Valarian wanted, and had proven useful in perfecting swordforms and calculating the best counterattacks. It also gave him the freedom of finding and trying new variations of swordforms. It would have seemed quite easy to a viewer, watching Valarian and his animated opponent spar, but it demanded a very high level of concentration, especially to make the doll move the way he wanted. A small mistake could really wound him, and it had happend a few times in the beginning.
Valarian looked at the practice doll, when it looked exactly the way he wanted it to, he attacked in slowmotion, and moved the doll into a defensive stance to block the attack. The spar had started and he slowly started to speed up his movement, concentrating on both his real body and that of the puppet. He practiced the old moves he had done here long time ago, it had been years since he had been able to try some of them since they were too dangerous to try on real people, even with a wooden sword. After about two hours of practice, and killing and repairing his sparring partner he stopped. He was pleased that the years hadn't made him rusty as he had feared. Though it mentally tired him to keep going.
With the last swing of his sword before closing the fan Valarian had cut off the doll's head and it now lay lifeless on the ground, the buttons that symbolised his eyes looked up to the empty dreamworld sky. "Death really is that easy..." he said to the puppet before it disappeared. He then looked at the supposedly blunt sword and touched the edge with his thumb. He must have subconsciously made it sharp, because a small drop of blood appeared in the cut when he looked at it. He knew it was dangerous to stay here when his mind became clouded. The events of the day suddenly came to haunt him again and as he looked up he saw a female figure run away from him. The novice. He had made her cry. Valarian shook his head as if demanding himself to think more clearly before he brought himself in real danger, even though he wanted to. He had to leave now. He turned around as he sensed another prescence, not one he created he was sure.
It was a black night, with no moon and no stars. Lyla had a feeling something bad will happen. If something bad were to happen, she thought, a night like this is most fitting. she never liked dark nights, and that feeling had kept her from sleeping. She needed the sleep, that day was not an easy day, and the next would be harder. That was the way of life. She had a lot of work to do, and she will not be able to do it tired after staying awake all night. She let her thoughts run free, made herself relax, and tried to sleep
It was Tel'Aran'Rhiod she woke into, but that made sense – using the relaxing sleep her Mentor taught her usually got her into Tel'Aran'Rhiod, and it was easy getting back to her own body for a normal sleep, but something stopped her. Her bad feeling only increased now that she was here. I might find an answer here. She started wandering about the Tower, letting her intuition guide her.
She found nothing. Nothing in the White Tower, and nothing in the Black, but once out side the Towers, she heard battling sounds coming from the Training Grounds. Running towards the sound, Lyla saw her old Dreamwalking Mentor, Valarian, Rei Al'aman Val, fighting a …puppet… that looked like him. He was troubled, she noted, as he didn't seem to notice her at all. Maybe it was because he was practicing, but she did not think so. As soon as the practice ended, though, she saw she was right – he didn't notice her. She saw him looking at something, but there was nothing there when she looked. Only then he seemed to sense Lyla, standing behind him, and turned to her.
Lyla nodded to him, and smiled. He might have a notion why she has such a bad feeling this night. "Good night, Rei Valarian. It's a good thing to see you here. I was wondering, could you help me?" she imagined two chairs and a table with wine between them. It was not real, but much pleasant then nothing. She sat, and waited for him to sit as well. Talking to him about Tel'Aran'Rhiod still felt as if he was her Mentor and she the Mentee, no matter what rank they held now.
(OOC - sorry for the short-ness :\)
((Sorry mine's really short too....))
When he turned around he saw Lyla, who nodded and smiled. He nodded back to acknowledge her prescence, and the sword in his hand disappeared. "Good night, Rei Valarian. It's a good thing to see you here. I was wondering, could you help me?" He looked at her when she made a table and chairs appear. He would rather have left as he felt he could easily lose control now he was mentally tired, but he wouldn't refuse to help Lyla if she asked for it. He had known the keeper of the chronicles since she had been a novice, and she had known him before... before his soul had died. He wondered if she noticed he was different. He felt weak, and tried to hide it as good as he could, yet things worked differently in the dreamworld, and holding the mask of cold rei was a lot more difficult here. She probably saw his confusion, his worries on his face.
He stepped forward and sat down on the chair that was meant for him. It seemed weird to him she would seek his counsil. He had been her mentor many years ago, but over the years she had become much better at the skill of dreamwalking than him. But maybe what she wanted to ask him had nothing to do with dreamwalking at all. His mind pushed away the bothersome thoughts that had brought him to Tel'aran'rhiod this night. His face was blank again, as usual. He couldn't permit himself to let his worries take a hold of him. He nodded again at Lyla Sedai. "How can I help you... Lyla sedai?" he simply asked, and looked at her, hoping he could help her. Her eyes showed her worry.