How to Train Your Channeler

[Oriena]

Honestly, she would have preferred it had he just run. She could certainly do without all the fucking yelling at her. Sasha’s voice was hoarse; he sounded like a wounded animal – pathetic and confused – and had she thought he’d actually stick up for himself she’d have struck a match against the anger he must be feeling somewhere inside, just for the catharsis. Ori could take the punishment. But even if he labelled her the villain of the piece, it wasn’t like he was going to actually do anything about it. It all felt like a waste of breath.

There were a thousand things she could have said to explain. That Nox had warned her he was in trouble and she didn’t have to come and save his ass. That she did what made sense in the moment to get that thing out of his head, and it had come with a price. She didn’t even know what exactly he was asking her. Why what? But it sounded like an accusation, and she didn’t like that.

She shifted languidly to her feet. Raked a hand through her hair, and adjusted to the new lightness inside. Sasha had crushed himself back up against the wall, and she thought about leaving him there. Fear was only ever useful to her when it leveraged retaliation. The kind that made someone break and cower just reminded her of every bully she’d ever cut down in her youth, and she hated it enough that the kindest thing she could do was leave. Comfort wasn’t something anyone ever sought from Ori.

Still, she crouched in front of him.

“Why what?” she snapped.

[Sasha]

Sasha blinked back at Oriena. He knew he had a reason for asking her but her question in return only gave a blank stare. Why what? "Why me?" Sasha's head collasped to his knees. Oriena was not a soft woman, she wasn't even warm and caring or anything of that nature but she'd never been mean. He wouldn't cry in front of her. He wouldn't whine or fall apart. He just sat there head hung over his knees, his arms wrapped around them and hugged himself. It was colder now. The fire of anger burned away. He could start a fire if he had his shard. Stay warm. He didn't have it and he was never going back to get it. He didn't want anywhere near her.

His voice still a whisper and muffled by the fetal position he held. Sasha said it again "Thank you. It was a living hell." He still didn't understand the monsters that had been there, that were there because of Oriena. He wanted to be angry, but he didn't understand it was all so very confusing.

Sasha took a deep breath and lifted his head and stood up, tears filled his eyes but they didn't fall. He wouldn't cry in front of her -- or anyone. "I'm cold. I'm going home." Not that he had a real home, but the church would be warm and there would be fire to satiate his hunger. The anger he could feed what little he had left into him into the fires there.

[Oriena]

She just watched him, silently. Life crushed Sasha, and he let it, but she had no interest in making him any smaller than he already made himself. There was no answer to his question anyway. Life was cruel. It made a survivor of Oriena in the same way it made a victim of Sasha. Because it could.

He completely folded in on himself. It stirred no pity inside her, but she didn’t look away either. Her brows were lightly drawn – whatever thoughts might be passing behind her eyes anyone’s guess. Ori didn’t respond to his thanks any more than she did to his visible distress. She just watched him with an expression of displeasure, or maybe frustration.

When he stood, she did too. Not in a predatory way, just to let him go. Only her arm moved without any conscious thought as he shifted to do just that, palm on his chest to block an easy exit. There wasn’t any force behind it; it wasn’t a move to spark confrontation, just a gesture to make him pause. Her eyes were still heated with their usual challenge despite the wretchedness of his gaze, but it wasn’t the kind which would push to breaking.

“I’ve felt one of them feed. I know how shitty it is,” she said. “But it’s what they wanted in exchange for their aid.” She glanced at the device where it lay, motionless now, but only for a moment. It wasn’t an apology. It was barely an explanation. Neither were owed, and it wasn’t why she chose to speak –  she’d already discarded his gratitude, and she wasn’t after vindication. If he pressed he might get more, but people rarely dared – they just accepted what Ori gave and scuttled out of her way. She would let him go if he shoved passed. Probably. She’d tolerate being hated. She’d tolerate being feared. But she’d decided she didn’t go to all this trouble just to let him flee straight back into the shadows.

“Open your hands.” It was still a command more than a request, but a more merciful one; there was no impetus behind it this time, just an expectation.

[Sasha]

Sasha looked down at her hand on his chest before pausing to meet her gaze. She was scarey even on the best of days but he wasn't sure what she meant. He got that it was payment, but what had they done to free him? He didn't ask. He didn't care as he glared at the fallen twitching object. He wondered if it was alive in some way.

He didn't know why she was here? Things were becoming more clear as the fear and pain passed. He didn't peg Oriena as a bleeding heart. Why was she here, another question he'd never get an answer to because he didn't ask.

Her words were sharp as always and Sasha obeyed. Opening his hands in front of him wand watching her carefully. What if she put a scorpion in his hands? or something worse? He was sure there was a bit of fear in his eyes. Sasha would trust her a little longer -- though he might live to regret it.

[Oriena]

His eyes were full of mistrust and unshed tears. Ori half rolled her own in the darkness. Fortunately for him her good mood bred a little patience. “I promise I’ll only bite if you ask nicely,” she said with a smirk. He was looking at her like he expected her to grow fangs, clearly ignorant of the point she was making because he didn’t even glance down at his palms. The control amused her for half a moment – the way he obeyed without knowing what she intended, even when it made him afraid. It wasn’t trust though, or curiosity, or recklessness – or anything half so pleasant: it was just a man used to being the one held over the barrel. To a world that shafted him so hard and so often he just accepted it. And that bristled her. Dug at something buried deep inside which she didn’t turn to face let alone examine.

Her expression didn’t soften. Her ferocity made no room for the edge of his fear, nor sought to reassure his trust. Yet her touch was surprisingly gentle when her fingers moved to trace the delicate flesh inside his wrists, watching his expression while she did it – just to see his reaction, and maybe to toy with it. But it was only a gesture to cup behind his hands, hold them up so he could see they were empty.

“You don’t have that jagged little piece of shit you were clutching like a lifeline, before,” she said. Her tone was a little scathing that she’d had to point it out to him. “Yet you channeled anyway. Because you don’t need it.” She paused for half a beat, but didn’t intend to give him the chance to shy back. “So if you’re cold, do something about it.”

[Sasha]

Sasha looked down at his hands. He had used the power inside. He'd done so without the shard. But he didn't actually know how he did it. He remembered words the man who Oriena had sent him to had said. It's always there just out of sight and he did see it. He just had to grab it.

Fear lanced through his body one more time. What if it didn't work? What if she was wrong.

He looked up into Oriena's eyes and searched for that place in his mind where the power wrestled with his own existence. Do not surrender. Control it! Sasha reached into the light and grabbed the bull by the horns and the world became much darker and grim than he'd ever imagine. The underground was an aweful place. Sounds of dripping water he picked up, the scent of blood and death lingered on the walls. His own not too far away.

He wasn't sure how to do what she asked, how to become warm. But he felt the fire in the patterns around him and he drew up on that power and wove a ball of fire. It floated just above his hands and he smiled widely. It was much warmer but yet it didn't burn his skin. He wondered how that was

Sasha knew that Oriena wouldn't appreciate the gesture but he leaned in and kissed her quickly before she bit him or something. "I did it. Thank you." This time he sounded better, though his voice was distant from holding the power still. It was a rush, the feeling of freedom. He wondered what he could do with it.