Finding the Center (Marek)

[Guest]

Bane had not heard, or pretended not to hear, Marek’s request for instruction. Fortunately, the group practicing blades in the yard had just taken a break. An woman with long golden hair and a humble demeanor detached from her group and came to Marek’s aid. She showed him where the proper things were located and how to remove and care for the armor and weapons he had borrowed. She seemed friendly enough but was obviously somewhat repelled by the odor and layer of filth that were the result of Marek’s hard labor.
“Not to be mean... but you might want a change of clothes - and a bath.”
Her friends called her away before she could tell the new trainee where the baths might be located.

The scent of flowers and herbs greeted Marek as he returned to the little hall where his room was located. The door to the room next to his was open and the cheerful sound of whistling was coming out of the room. Apparently the pleasant smells were also wafting from his neighbor’s room.

[Guest]

“Not mean. Honest.” He replied drily at the young woman’s comment. “I am outright filthy, and I’ll take your advice. Thanks for your help.” He added as she walked away.

Marek cleaned the armor until there was no evidence left of the use he had made of it. Sword soon followed, and both were returned to their respective racks. The next few burns he used to stretch his muscles. Palms against the wall, Marek bent one knee and forced himself through a series of stretching exercises in hopes of preventing at least part of the agony he’d be in by tomorrow. Finally, tired and miserable, he started on his way back.

He had almost made it to his room when he heard whistling. The smell of flowers made him check his stride and take his shirt between thumb and forefinger. He sniffed, smiling wrily. The girl had been right: he smelled... to put it mildly. With a glance thrown at the open door in passing, Marek continued to his room and shut the door behind him.

His arms ached as he worked his shirt over his head and used the ruined cloth to remove the worst filth from his body. It didn’t help much against the smell but at least he no longer looked as if he had taken a dive in a pigsty. From his backpack he collected a fresh set of clothes.

Bare chested, carrying his spare set of clothes, Marek had already traversed part of the hallway before he realized he didn’t know where to go. Where were the baths? He frowned and tried to remember if Father Govard had mentioned them. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that the priest’s brief tour had not included the baths. Great! Could this day get any worse?

Apparently, it could.

That annoyingly happy tune still came from the room next to his. Inwardly fuming – the young man did the only thing he logically could do, he headed in that direction. That didn’t mean he had to like it. He was tired, grumpy and disappointed. Not at all in a mood to deal with someone as overly cheerful as his neighbour. Still, choices were none.

Announcing his presence, he knocked on the open door. “Excuse me.” He tried to remain polite. “Can you perhaps tell me where the baths are?” Leaning in the doorway, Marek stared into the room, searching for the happy whistler.

He knew he should probably have added some sort of explanation or introduction, but truth was – he didn’t care. All he wanted was to clean up and get some food and rest. This happy flowery someone didn’t really fit in those plans.

[Guest]

“Helloo!”
There was a young woman arranging flowers in a small bowl. Scented candles lit the room with a warm cozy glow. The furnishings were as simple as Marek’s own, although the woman seemed to be adding cheering touches to brighten the place up,

Marek’s neighbor was a full head or more shorter than him and light as a bird. She was dressed in a white cotton tunic and leather sandals. Her straw-colored hair was pulled back in a simple braid. Pale smooth skin marked her as a priestess rather than a warrior. Her blue eyes took in the state of her visitor and her smile of welcome turned to an expression of concern.
“Oh dear. You look injured. Has there been another attack?”

She sped over to stand beside Marek and immediately began probing his bruises and cuts with an expert hand.
“Nothing permanent or deep. Whoever dismissed you from duty without having a healer see to your wounds?”

“Come, I’ll show you the baths. I‘m Zinia, by the way, a novice healer - so don’t be shy.”
They were nearby at the end of the next hall. There was a marble-tiled room with towels and racks of various soaps and brushes. Two doors led to separate bathing pool chambers: one for men and one for women. Both were unoccupied.

[Guest]

Grudgingly Marek allowed the girl’s administrations. It was after all not Zinia’s fault he suffered the bad mood of a lifetime. “Training”, he explained curtly, cutting out all details to hone in on her earlier question. “Another attack? What is going on?”

He followed her through the halls, “Oh, and I’m Marek Vellion. From the Citadel. No ties to the Purple Guard.” He frowned at his lack of manners. This would not do. Surely he was better than venting his frustrations at Zinia? She had not done anything to deserve his rudeness. Consciously trying to push his anger and exhaustion to the back of his mind, Marek managed a tired smile. “I am sorry. Honestly, I am. You are catching me at my worst. Rough day. But… What other attack?” Concern and curiosity were slowly replacing the alienating feelings of resentment. His usual disposition was not one to dwell on anger, and already the bad mood was fading. An effect that was enhanced both by the effort he put into it and the friendliness of his company.

He took a soap and brush from the rack but didn’t move towards the bathing pool just yet. Instead he turned fully to Zinia, eager to hear more of what was going on on the Island.

[Guest]

"Ah, you've only just arrived. The past several days have seen some conflict here on the Sacred Isle. First, a well-respected priest was turned to darkness and his home destroyed as the order thwarted his attempt to summon a demon. Then, the Temple itself was attacked by a small force of assassins. A priestess from an allied order was able to lead the paladins to the lair of the traitors. Many paladins and priest were injured. It was only my third day here when all of this started, and I now feel as if I have been practicing my craft for a long time on the Isle."
A frown tugged at the corners of Zinia's mouth and her eyes betrayed a certain fatigue that seemed at odds with her cheerful demeanor and whistling from earlier.

"In fact, that's why you found me. I requested to be quartered farther from the Healers Hall for a short time to- well, to deal with the stress quite frankly."

She dug around in a cabinet in the corner for a bit and produced a large jar.
"Here, Marek. This balm will ease the pain of your bruises if you apply it after bathing. You do look as if you've had a rough time of it. Are you off duty for the rest of the day?"

[Guest]

“I arrived only a few marks ago. The entire Island still is new to me.” Marek nodded as he followed her to the cabinet and took the jar from her. “That explains why people have been a bit … off.” He mused, mostly to himself.

“Thank you for this.. “ holding up the jar, he smiled at the young healer, “when I wake up next morningtide, I’ll be doubly grateful I wager.” Depositing the jar atop the bundle of clothes and towel in his arms, he delayed going to the baths just a bit longer. “Just a few more classes. Father Damrod for Meditation? Maybe you know where he teaches? I’d best go there right after I am clean.” It would be good to have directions before he parted ways with Zinia. She seemed tired and if he could help it, he would not seek her out again tonight with more requests for directions.

“Why do you ask? Did you need help with anything? If so, I’ll return later and stop by. It’s the least I can do after all your help.” Although he did not think she needed anything except a good deal of rest, he made the offer all the same, implying he’d be there if she required his aid.

Tilting his head, he indicated the baths, “I’ll be in there. If I haven’t returned to my room by morning, I will have fallen asleep.” He winked at her and waited till she left before heading into the baths.

[Guest]

“No, no help needed that I know of. I’m sure I can find something if that was an offer.”
She winked, part flirtation and part jest.
“I was going to recommend that you spend some time relaxing in meditation before attempting anything more strenuous. I am rather skilled in helping people relax and find their center. But if you are scheduled for Father Damrod’s class, then you will be doing so already. You will meet him in the Meditation Room.”

Zinia gave the young novice directions to get to his lesson before departing.
“And remember, I’ll be happy to help you with his lessons. Just knock on my door if you want some extra practice.”

[Guest]

The young man gave a noncommittal chuckle at the flirtation. “Make me regret Father Damrod was first, why don’t you?” He teased back, mainly out of politeness. “I’ll take you up on that offer some time. Thanks Zinia.”

He gave a smile and hastily disappeared into the bathing area. He liked his neighbour but the flirtation gave a warning sign Marek couldn’t afford to ignore. A firm mental note was made to avoid her for a couple of days.

Soap, brush and towel were laid in preparation at the edge of the bathing pool. He undressed and pulled the ribbon from his hair as he sank into the hot water. It felt good to have the baths to himself. The quiet eased his turbulent mind as much as the warm water soothed his aching muscles. The soap biting into his cuts and bruises was a small price to pay for the sensation of being warm and clean again, and the young man’s spirits lifted considerably.

So the Isle had been under attack. He sighed and immersed himself deeper into the warm water. It explained a good deal of the Priests’ behaviour, although Marek found it hard to sympathize. Running off potential reinforcements didn’t seem like the wisest strategy. Still, this new knowledge made the decision to leave or stay a lot harder. Until now he had kept the notion firmly in mind that he could leave. He had not committed to anything but to serve Illuminatus and that did not necessarily mean Oracle’s Isle. Darkness closing in changed everything however and Marek acknowledged the fact with a disgruntled sigh. He was not the kind to abandon ship at the first sign of trouble. If he had been, he doubted Illuminatus would have accepted him into his service. So, he supposed he was in for the duration of this mess, but – he promised himself that much – there were going to be some changes. First of all, he’d make sure his mentor showed a bit more goodwill. At the present, Bane was the last person Marek would turn to for answers and that would not do. He’d have to talk with Bane, and if that did not help, he’d request for another mentor.

He felt better after having made those decisions, and prepared to leave, towelling himself off vigorously. Marek applied the salve on his cuts and bruises, dressed in fresh clothes, cleaned his boots and mopped up the muddy pools. After a bit of hunting around he found where the others had left their dirty towels and deposited his on the pile. The jar of salve he returned to the shelf. When he was done, the bathing area was as pristine as he had found it.

Warm and clean, hair tied back in a sleek ponytail, Marek felt ready to brave his next tutor, father Damrod. He stopped briefly at his rooms to rid himself of his dirty laundry, wasting no further time as he strode through halls towards the Meditation Room. A light tap on the door announced his presence.

[Guest]

The door turned out to be an open stone arch.

The sight of the chamber within was stunning. The chamber wasn't even that big, but the enormous crystal cupola made the room look like it was up in the clouds. An uncountable number of triangular windows was held tight in a frame that had the color of silver. It was very obvious that the construction of it had not only taken a lot of money, but also perhaps a yahr's work if ten artisans had worked on it without taking any other jobs. More likely, it had been a slow process. The triangles looked like facets of a huge gem. One of the walls, giving on the east, was also entirely made out of glass.

Despite the bright sunlight, the temperature in the room was very nice and cool. Yet there was no wind tunnel system visible. There were three rows of nine big, light colored wooden benches. There were nine little round pillows on each bench, but only two were currently occupied. The rest of the room was sober; only natural colors used. Of course it would have been silly to try to highlight anything else but the roof of glass.
The scent of a mild incense and complete silence gave the room an ethereal feeling.

A muscular bald man in a simple cotton tunic was seated in front of the two students. He rose and approached the newcomer.
“Hello, are you Mark? Oh, it is Mark isn't it? They didn't send me a written roster yet and I'm terrible with new names.”

[Guest]

Marek’s feet refused to take him further as his gaze fell upon the imposing high windows. From his parents he had inherited an appreciation for art and craftsmanship, which now had him nearly breathless in admiration. Oh, he only could begin to guess how many hours, how much skill had been poured into the creation of this room. The sheer beauty of it all curved an involuntary smile upon the young man’s lips.

Father Damrod’s greeting reached him even through his enraptured admiration of the meditation room, and Marek turned towards the man with a courteous incline of head. “I am. Well, almost. You had it ninety percent right. I am Marek, Marek Vellion. You are Father Damrod?”

He lowered his voice, trying to keep from disrupting the other two students, “What a splendid room. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Reverence filled his voice in homage to the craftsmanship and dedication that had been poured into this creation.

“Father Govard said you were teaching meditation, Sir? I’m afraid I don’t have any experience… I usually take a walk when I want to clear my head.” He smiled, “but I am eager to learn.”

[Guest]

Damrod responded with a slight laugh.
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’ll try to keep it straight, but it may take a day or two. Marek... yes. Well, welcome Marek. I am indeed Damrod.”

“Yes. It is a fine chamber. Of course, such grandeur is not really necessary for meditation, mind you . But it certainly helps.”

Damrod ushered Marek over to an unoccupied cushion.
“Do not worry. Many who are called have little experience. Else I would not have the pleasure of teaching in such a splendid room.”
He gave a sly wink before continuing.
“Now. Clear your mind of concerns... of thoughts... of achy muscles.. or lovely maidens. Let all of these things slip away like the breath escaping your body. That’s it. Breathe in... and let your distractions float away with the exhale.”

“Now. Let yourself become clear - a focus for the Light. You will need to look within and find the center - the core- of your being.”

[Guest]

The young man lowered onto one of the cushions and glanced sideways at the other two present. He studied their way of sitting and copied it. With a respectful nod, Marek gazed up at Father Damrod as the Priest finished his instructions. Dark eyes closed as Marek prepared to follow Damrod’s pointers. Before he fully immersed himself in the exercise however, he voiced a prayer to his God.

Illuminatus, it is my only wish to serve you. Please grant me the wisdom to learn the lessons I need to learn and guide me as I employ them in your service.

He drew in a deep breath… Clear his mind of concerns? That was a tricky one. There was so much! Fortunately, Damrod’s next words made him chuckle. Lovely maidens? Yeah. Right. The smile chased away the rising turbulence that threatened to shatter his focus.

For a burn or two, Marek concentrated on his breathing, trying to follow Damrod’s instructions on clearing his mind. He sat up a little straighter as a result, chin lifted as the focus of the closed eyes seemed to lock onto a point just in front of him. His breathing calmed, taking on a deeper, slower rhythm.

The core of my being? What was that supposed to mean?

He had little to go on but he refused to let it upset him. Protecting the newfound calm within, the young novice drew in another slow breath.

The peaceful surroundings, his own slow breathing and peace of mind created a stillness inside, a peace and balance he thought he remembered. For another flicker it eluded him… until a memory emerged. He remembered the Pool as it had been after Illuminatus had left and recognized the quiet inside. Not much further now, he thought, pulling his focus inward towards the very center of his being, towards that part of him that was Light.

[Guest]

Damrod’s words seemed to come from far away.
“Very good. You have found a peaceful place from which to make your next observations. Look within. The light at your core. Expand your senses out from that area to find the boundaries that define yourself. Stay within and focus only on what you find there.”

There was almost the sound of music - a familiar song. The presence of Illuminatus was strong, showing Marek the bond between worshipper and worshipped. The light that could be found within the paladin at all times to bring peace or protection or to focus.

Draw strength from within. I am with you.

[Guest]

Illuminatus?

There was wonder in the realization, a marvelling at the strength of His Presence within that reassured the young man in his efforts. Still breathing in that same, tranquil rhythm, he concentrated on the Light of Illuminatus, firmly rooted in the core of his being.

As he immersed himself in the Light and song of His God, Marek’s perception shifted subtly. No longer did he try to reach from outside to within, but rather the opposite. Starting from the core where Lumi’s presence was strongest, Marek pushed his senses outward.

Boundaries that define yourself? Stay within?

What was Damrod talking about? He reasoned this too would become clear in time. Concentrating on what his senses told him, Marek expanded his awareness further, albeit more and more slowly for fear of missing a change when it occurred.

[Guest]

No voice answered Marek’s inquiry. But the presence of Illuminatus was unmistakable.

As he entrusted himself to the Light, the meditation became almost effortless. His inner presence, a core of energy infused with the blessing of the Light.

Damrod’s voice was distant.
“... boundaries. you will know when you reach them. In the perception of energy it is important to keep yourself grounded. Separate from the energies that surround you everywhere you look.”

Marek reached the barrier. The shield of light that marked the boundary of his own energies. Outside energies seemed to rush past. Complex. Unexplained strands of movement: light and various colors drifting and colliding. The other students: similar in form to Marek and enveloped by a similar protective layer of Light. Damrod: of the Light but not so much a blazing beacon as a warm, soft lamp. His intensity lessened so as to allow Marek to perceive him without a protective barrier.
Very good, Marek. The voice spoke from within his mind. You have a natural affinity for finding the energy within yourself. But do not reach outward just yet. We must work on your grounding or the rush of energies may prove too confusing. Ah... you have it, you have held to the breath rhythm. Good. But now it is time to return to normal perception. Return to the sight that you were born with, Marek. Gently does it. When you are back in synch- when you feel ready, open your eyes.

[Guest]

The young man made sure his breathing remained that same calm before he shifted his attention to the barrier surrounding him and the energies beyond that. Mindful of his teacher’s warning he refrained from attempting to push forward to the assault of energies whirling about and concentrated instead on that which defined himself.

His form motionless on the cushion, the young paladin might have been a statue aside from the heaving and falling of his chest with every slow, deep breath. Another few flickers passed before he opened his eyes. Blinking against the different light, he raised his gaze to Father Damrod.

[Guest]

Marek opened his eyes to discover that the light in the chamber had changed significantly due to the passage of time. The other students were gone. Only Damrod remained with the new student.
Physically, Marek felt energized - as if he had not spent the day in tortuous physical exertion.

“Are you feeling alright, Marek? Several marks have passed, but I did not want to bring you out of it needlessly. You seem to have an exceptional gift for the inner light. In fact, I think we’ll have you study with one of my more advanced students in the morning to work on some specialized variations of inner perception.”

[Guest]

“Several..marks..?” A bewildered look around confirmed Damrod’s words and the young man rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to adjust to unnoticed passage of time. He felt refreshed, much like he had slept through several tides.

“Thank you, Sir. I am well. Better than well, actually.” Tentatively stretching his legs, Marek rose to his feet. “How?” The question referred to his replenished energy, but almost immediately he shook his head. “No, I am sorry. That should be obvious.” Dropping his hand to his side, Marek bowed lightly but respectfully to Damrod. “I apologize for taking this much of your time, Father. It was not intentional although I am glad you allowed it.”

He straightened, marvelling at the replenished energy coursing through his body. “I would look forward to more studying on this”, he said sincerely. “I have a class scheduled with Father Bane right after morning services. I hope that does not collide with your class, Father?” He grimaced at a sudden thought, “If at all possible, I’d like to try to scheduling meditation –after- the other session, Father. May I ask what time you had in mind, Sir?”

He was eager to attend this class Damrod suggested and hoped it would not coincide with Bane's. But if it did, he intended to find out now so he might try to push the one with Bane to an earlier time. It would be tight, but perhaps Bane would not mind teaching before morning services.

[Guest]

"Ah, in that case you may want to work out an alternate time with Healer Zinia. She will be directing the next step in your study of meditation. I'll be happy to introduce you to her at evening meal if you'll just be so kind as to remind me."

Damrod began making preparations for his last student of the day.
"I'll see you soon, Marek. I believe you have some free time before the meal."

[Guest]

“Healer Zinia?” he nearly choked. It was a good thing Damrod had turned away for his preparations. Marek watched the man move about, helpless for a flicker to do anything else.

Zinia?!

Swallowing his surprise, he hastened to reassure the Priest. “What a coincidence… she is my neighbour.” He smiled sincerely. “Thank you again for the lesson, Father. I’ll get in touch with Healer Zinia straight away.”

Deep in thought, the young trainee bowed to Damrod and made his way out.

Had she not said she was a novice healer? It seemed the girl had been a tad too modest, which put him in a somewhat awkward position. Zinia had made it very clear she needed rest and he wished to respect that.

Her flirtation in the baths had nothing to do with his desire to leave her alone, or so he told himself.

But what about those lessons? Zinia had not only offered to teach him, but also given the impression she’d like him to accept. Besides, if he couldn’t handle this, it was past time to go back to mommy.

Chuckling, the young man picked his way back towards his room. Or rather, his neighbour’s room. He knocked lightly.

“Zinia?” He called without raising his voice. If she slept or was in meditation, he did not want to rouse her.

[Guest]

"Yes? Come in."
The door swung open to reveal Zinia. She appeared to have been doing a bit of reading from some wax tablets. She was seated cross-legged on her bed with a tablet in her lap.

"Oh, Marek. You look much refreshed. Isn't it marvelous what a bit of meditation can do for one's body and soul. I take it your lesson with Damrod went well?"
She sat up and motioned for Marek to have a seat on the bed beside her.

[Guest]

With a faint chuckle, he sat on the bed and leaned back on his elbows, looking rather comfortable there. "More than well. In fact, he suggested I'd take further lessons."

Marek grinned at Zinia, "and guess who he mentioned as my teacher?" The grin faded as he became serious again. "Zinia, you mentioned being tired. I'd like very much if you'd teach me, but not at the cost of your own wellbeing. That'd be an ill way to repay you for your help."

[Guest]

"Tired... tired of seeing the effect of sword and poison on flesh. Not fatigued in general."
She smiled to assure her visitor that his presence was indeed welcome.
"I have a few days free of my healing duties to refresh myself. I would be delighted to work with you... I only wonder why he recommended you study next with me. He usually is very strict about his order of training. Unless..."

Zinia got up and set a stick of incense burning. The odor of sage soon filled the small room.
"I want to try something with you, Marek. Lie down on your back. Concentrate on the scent of the air... Now try to go into a meditative state as you did earlier with Damrod."

[Guest]

“I am glad to hear it”, Marek smiled at her when she reassured him of her wellbeing.

“Unless ..what?” He perked a brow as she burned incense. Was the scent in her room not heady enough? Flowers, herbs and now incense. Nonetheless he did try to concentrate on that one scent. Awkwardly he stretched his legs and leaned back till his spine hit the covers on Zinia’s bed. Hands folded on his stomach as he cast a sly smile at Zinia. It was amusing to see how quickly she’d made the transition from friendly neighbour to teacher.

“Yes ma’am”.

Closing his eyes as he had before, Marek regulated his breathing. Again he took his time. Still not too familiar with the technique he preferred to be thorough. Deeply he inhaled the heavy incense scented air, and exhaled slowly. Calming.

When his breathing was calm and steady, and the room around him had evaporated into a sage scented mist, only then did he focus inwards towards his core This time he had the advantage of knowing what to look for. Concentrating to make the transition from without to within, he tried to pull his senses inward towards the center of Light.

[Guest]

This time it was much easier. Marek found that inner core in a fraction of the time it had taken earlier.
“Good,” came Zinia’s voice, “I see now what Damrod intended. Your inward focus is strong. And do you sense the boundary? Between yourself and that which is outside?”

Marek could sense at the edges of his being, a thin layer of protective Light that was made up of both his own energy and that of Illuminatus.

“Without reaching into the surrounding energies, see if you can make that shield stronger. We have different ways of doing this depending upon how we interpret the magical energy. For many, viewing it as threads and strands to be woven works well. Others think of music: weaving energy together like instruments and voices for different effects.”