acrookedpath | [pfsb]

She favors Lan Wangji with a patient, mildly exasperated look, and spins a quick weave to move the chair from her desk to the other side of the coffee table so that she will be seated across from them, then leaves it up to him whether to sit or not.

"That is one of the reasons it is not clear," Moiraine says. "A few decades only. Perhaps thirty years, maybe half a century. Perhaps."

He looks to Lan Zhan again, reassuring: it's all right.

"I'm inclined to believe it was a case of possession, then. Especially if you've seen it possess others more recently." A crooked grin. "Demons themselves don't often choose a name like 'Bob,' eh?"

Even accounting for language differences, it is a very silly name.

"And besides, it takes far more than half a century to amass the power you described." He stops; reconsiders. "Unless it grew stronger just from its proximity to the Black Lodge. Which it could. Hm."

He moves a little stiffly to take a seat beside Wei Ying, and continues to listen intently as Moiraine tells them, “I would think it possible. It also feeds on pain and fear, and has certainly harvested that in abundance.”

As Lan Zhan sits, Wei Wuxian scoots closer. Briefly -- uncaring if Moiraine notices -- he catches his husband's hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

"I have been picturing the Black Lodge as a vortex," he says, "drawing in all the resentful energy it can find, growing stronger each day. Any spirits it caught would immediately curdle to resentment. Any demons would find it extremely hospitable, and choose to take up permanent residence. Bob could be either one of those: a young spirit captured or an old demon who found its home. It may not matter, eh? But perhaps the Lodge itself is as mindless and lacking in wants as a whirlpool -- not a being, but a corrupted force of nature. Does that sound plausible?"

"It may be both. There is a story," Moiraine tells them, "that says that all spirits must pass through the Black Lodge on their way to enlightenment."

She frowns. "I do not think that likely, that all must, but I have found that stories have their roots in something."

"...Huh."

Being Wei Wuxian's eyes, it's easy to see his original idea demolished and swiftly rearranged into a new one.

"A portal to a court of Diyu?"

"Diyu?" the Aes Sedai asks.

"The realms of the dead," Lan Wangji answers, very precisely. He is careful not to look at Wei Ying. "There are courts, or levels; you may think of them as lands within the realms. It is a place of both punishment and renewal, prior to reincarnation."

"Ah," Moiraine murmurs. "I believe I understand. Then yes, perhaps it is something similar. Or was, once."

"That does change things." Rather than annoyed, or frustrated, Wei Wuxian sounds pleasantly intrigued at this new twist in the puzzle. "A portal to Diyu, lying open on the land -- aiyo! No wonder so many spirits have found their way there, or wandered out of its mouth. And no wonder it has been so hard to contain."

How would you even go about shoving such a heavy door closed, let alone locking it permanently?

"It may explain certain other things as well," Moiraine murmurs. It is not likely to be something that she will ever ask Dream, or even could, but perhaps Nyarlathotep's unfortunate presence in Twin Peaks is associated with the connection between Tel'aran'rhiod and the passage of the dead in the world where she was born, if the doorway to the Black Lodge is indeed such a portal to the realms of the dead.

"Although when it comes to concerns about mounting pressure behind a seal, this may help."

"How so?" Curious. "Could your own weaves close a portal as easily as opening one?"

"That is not precisely how it works," the Aes Sedai tells them. She considers them both.

"Would it be useful to you to see?"

...Who is this woman and what has she done with the closed-off, secretive Moiraine they knew? Wei Wuxian is so taken aback that it takes him an extra beat to respond.

"Yes," he says. "If you are willing, then we'd like to see."

Edited 2023-02-09 19:33 (UTC)

Lan Wangji's expression remains impassive, but Wei Wuxian's surprise is impossible for her to miss. It does not, however, surprise her to see his reaction. She has often found it useful to demonstrate something that might be perceived as an expression of trust, when needed - and her need is great.

"Very well." She embraces saidar, and cannot fail to notice how Lan Wangji comes to immediate, intensely focused attention, watching her every move. She arches an eyebrow at him. "Perhaps I should begin with a training exercise?" she inquires, calmly.

Of course he cannot miss how Lan Zhan draws taut as a tensed bow, ready to spring into motion at the slightest hint of trouble. He suppresses a sigh -- albeit more fondly than when they were in their quarters.

"That may be best," he agrees.

"Very well." She holds out a hand in front of her, palm up. Light blossoms at each fingertip, transmuting into thin strands of five separate colors, which come together over the center of her hand to form a complex braid. All the while, the faint golden glow around her never wavers.

"As Aes Sedai, I channel and weave saidar," she explains. "It is comprised of five separate powers which together invoke all that is created: Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit."

As she speaks, each colorful thread brightens in turn to a shimmering green, golden yellow, brilliant red, deep blue, and a silvery white.

Ah, if only he could light the energy-revealing lantern and shine it on Moiraine! Though, he thinks wryly, no matter how transparent she may be at the moment, he doubts she would ever willingly be that transparent.

He leans a little closer, studying the interplay of light on the tips of her fingers, and taps the side of his nose in thought. "I am still curious why air and spirit so often replace metal and wood," he muses to himself. "I've heard that list of elements from others here before."

"Is it a direct replacement, do you think?" She tilts her head very slightly as she considers, and holds the weave steady for him to examine. For both of them, in fact, although Lan Wangji appears content to observe, at least for now.

"Metal and wood may be manipulated with weaves of Earth. Spirit... well. Spirit is often used in weaves involving sight and will, among other things. Not all channelers are equally skilled with each of the five powers, however."

"Not direct, no," he says, shaking his head. "And -- hm. I suppose because metal and wood come from the earth, it holds dominion over them instead, in your world? Does Water hold sway over wine, or blood, as well as the oceans and rivers?"

She inclines her head in assent. "All that and more," Moiraine tells them. "There is essence of water in wine, and in blood, and in many other things as well. It is also possible to combine the powers for different purposes in different weaves. For example--"

Moiraine raises both hands, allowing the braid to dissipate, and forms a small, quick weave of Air and Water. A little cloud forms in the middle of the room. She adds a flicker of Fire, and lightning cracks from one side of the cloud to the other.

Edited 2023-02-10 20:12 (UTC)

Wei Wuxian's eyes widen, and he breaks into a delighted grin at the display.

"Of course!" he says. "As combining elements in a talisman might do the same thing."

He sketches a line of glowing red characters in the air: water, fire, elements to disperse the water to a fine mist and condense the fire into hard flat spikes of lightning. A second cloud joins the first, a bolt of lightning arcing to its compatriot.

He still does not entirely trust this woman, but he cannot repress the swell of fondness that rushes through him at Wei Ying's bright joy in having found something new to explore. If he must tolerate the Aes Sedai for that, well, it is not the hardest thing he has ever done.

"Precisely so," Moiraine says. "And the effect can be retained so long as one holds the weave ... or for a time longer, if it is tied and set. Like so."

She allows her miniature storm to dissipate, then weaves another training exercise into a hand-sized scrap of gleaming multicolored threads. Moiraine ties off the edges of the 'cloth' and holds it out to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian accepts it. His eyes expect it to weigh as much as silk, at most; to his fingers' surprise, it hardly has a form at all, though it thrums with the energy Moiraine poured into it. He holds it up to eye level to examine it closer, the light of its threads reflected in his eyes.

"Lan Zhan," he whispers, still delighted, and offers it to him. "Look!"

He takes the ethereal thing in his fingers and turns it over with care, studying it closely.

"How much longer?" he asks, looking up at Moiraine.

"It depends on the weave and how the tie is made," she says, calm and unruffled. Lan Wangji thinks that her cadence is not unlike that of a teacher explaining a technique. "For this, some few minutes, perhaps a quarter of an hour. For a gateway, it may persist some longer, but eventually the weave will dissipate due to the strength required to hold the portal open."

Wei Wuxian makes a small, intrigued noise, continuing to eye the weave. "And when a weave is acting against a force as strong as a portal to Diyu, I suppose it wouldn't last long at all."

She inclines her head. "A tied weave can also be broken more easily than when one is held."

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