"Joining Forces"

Log Date:
	11/10/99, 11/11/99

Log Cast:
	Faanshi, FallingStar, Samein

Log Intro:
	With all the practice she has had improving her healing magic over
the past several months -- especially at the hands of the Nabi Devaki during
the plague that ravaged Haven -- Faanshi had thought that she'd begun to
get her wayward power under control. But to her deep dismay, her attempt to
heal an Empyrean who'd landed badly upon the rain-slicked, muddy ground in
the city park has revealed to her that her magic has seemed to begin to
go awry for no reason she can fathom.
	Although the old arch-magus Samein has floored the halfbreed girl
by extending to her an offer of help and an invitation to her to seek him
out in Delphi, still Faanshi's first instinct is to seek out her first
teacher. And thus this brings her to the herb-shop A Moment in Thyme in
search of FallingStar and answers to why her magic might be escaping her
control all over again. Fortunately for Faanshi, this same morning has
brought the same idea to Samein...

*===========================< In Character Time >==========================*
             Time of day:  Late Morning
          Date on Aether:  Thursday, July 18, 3905.
           Year on Earth:  1505 A.D. 
       Phase of the Moon:  Waning Gibbous
                  Season:  Summer
                 Weather:  Partly Cloudy
             Temperature:  Warm
*==========================================================================*

You open the door to the herbseller's shop, entering admist the soft sound of 
  chimes.
A Moment in Thyme - Haven
     A multitude of smells mingle in the air of the small shop, combining from 
  plants hanging from the ceiling or sitting on the shelves, or concoctions 
  simmering over the hearth set into the side wall, or any of a number of 
  sources. The wall opposite the hearth appears to be a work area of some 
  sort, with a scarred table covered with tools, containers, and partially 
  finished projects. The back of the shop is where all the finished goods are 
  kept, it seems, judging from the full shelves - all organized with careful 
  precision, despite how full they are. In fact, the entire shop is kept 
  clean, the wooden floor well-scrubbed to an almost glossy shine. A set of 
  chimes hangs near the door, jangling softly whenever the door is opened.
Contents:
FallingStar
Obvious exits:
Private Quarters <PQ>  Out <O>

Samein opens the door and enters from the street, accompanied by the soft 
  sound of chimes.
Samein has arrived.

The healing of the Empyrean had been the start of it... and as Faanshi had 
  made her anxious rounds of a portion of Bordertown the previous night, it 
  hadn't stopped there. Each time she'd coaxed a child into letting her 'look' 
  at him or her with her power, she could feel the aether roiling and swirling 
  around in in a way it hadn't seemed to do in months. A feverish infant she'd 
  tried to soothe in its mother's arms had squalled when she'd touched it. And 
  after striving to help a beggar woman who'd tripped into a gutter and 
  sprained her ankle, Faanshi had stumbled away with a pounding headache and a 
  sick feeling to her gut. A night's sleep had restored her... somewhat... but 
  the worry had remained, undispelled by her anxious morning prayers to the 
  Lady of the Dawn. And now that those prayers are done, the shudra maiden has 
  hastened quickly to the herb shop. The chimes at the door herald her arrival 
  and that of her dog, and even before they subside Faanshi calls out 
  anxiously, "Imphada FallingStar? Acarya, are you here?"

A resounding *thunk* sounds from under the worktable, followed by a string of 
  irritated curses. After a moment or two, the Sylvan healer peeks over its 
  edge toward the door, eyes narrowed in pain as she rubs at her head. 
  "Indeed," FallingStar replies. "Gods, it's not my day," she grumbles, 
  straightening up again, wincing as her joints pop.

Samein arrives as if drawn here by some rather mystical force; perhaps this 
  was actually arranged beforehand, or perhaps he responded to need. The old 
  man is practically at Faanshi's heels, striding in swiftly, a pillar of 
  relative stability, stodgy and down-to-earth. The most utilitarian of Magus.

Even as FallingStar emerges, the noise of the man entering the shop behind her 
  -- and the resultant barking of the big dog at her side -- makes Faanshi 
  pivot around on her heels in startlement. "Imph--" Just in time she chokes 
  back that title, remembering that it displeases the old mage, and she croaks 
  instead, "Sir!" That one syllable escapes her in a rush, and she looks back 
  and forth between the Varati man and the Sylvan woman in a surge of 
  desperate relief. "You... you are both here... you're both here..."

"This is where I often am, after all," FallingStar observes, with a sigh, 
  still rubbing at the newly-acquired bump on her head. The Sylvan sounds 
  almost...irritable. Not that she's even been seen in that kind of mood by 
  this particular student before. Must be imagining things. Or maybe 
  FallingStar just didn't sleep well the night before. "So, what brings you 
  out here...as if I couldn't guess."

Samein pauses at the edge of the doorframe then, stopping a bit short to 
  prevent collision with Faanshi. He arches one bushy eyebrow, peering at her 
  for a moment, and then finally lets out a soothing, "Shhh... Indeed, we are. 
  I have been hoping to avoid your eventual combustion from nervous tension." 
  No real notice of Fallingstar, just yet. He does indeed seem to be 
  monitoring her for signs of breakdown. Carefully.

Kosha, made restless by Faanshi's obvious dismay, whines and sidles around to 
  her other side -- made even more restless by the presence of Samein even 
  though his canine memory no longer retains active recollection of this man's 
  dramatic effect on the earth over which he'd been scampering the first time 
  they'd met. Faanshi, her hands tightly clasped at her breast, shoots another 
  glance back and forth between the two older mages; her eyes are liquid and 
  imploring, her voice full of worry behind her veil. "M-my magic has been... 
  o-odd," she explains hastily. "Something is wrong... I thought I h-had 
  learned my control, but, but..."

"Yes, yes, there's something wrong. Not just with you, with everything. With 
  the magic itself." FallingStar lifts a hand to rub at her temples. "I don't 
  know what's going on, but I can assure you I'm aware of it." She glances up 
  toward Samein again after a moment, eyes narrowing. "I don't suppose 
  Delphi's mages have been messing around or some such - experimenting with 
  the fabric of the aether and not bothering to inform the lesser mages of it?"

Samein blinks once, and then again, finally casting a sidelong glance at the 
  Sylvan in question. He considers her and her question for a moment in 
  impassive silence, before remarking dryly, "Even Delphi cannot change the 
  very fabric of the Aether. Even if we were so foolish as to wish to do so. 
  As for the latter, I cannot speak for all of my colleagues." He glances back 
  towards Faanshi. "The disruptions for you are something of a pittance, in 
  comparison to the visions experienced by every Clairvoyant." Not an 
  admonition or even a belabored point, merely a dry addition to the 
  information at hand.

"Oh..." breathes the shudra maiden, tinily. To hear such things from both her 
  official teacher and from the elderly mage she has recently met is not 
  exactly a relief even if it is at least implying that she is not personally 
  responsible for the recent bizarre behavior of her power. Feeling abruptly 
  quite out of her league, Faanshi swallows hard and asks both FallingStar and 
  Samein, "Wh-what must I do?"

"Gods give me patience. A pittance, he tells me." FallingStar sighs, resting a 
  hand on the workbench as though for support. "Not being a clairvoyant 
  myself, I wouldn't know anything about visions that they're receiving. I 
  haven't been in the habit of consulting any of them since leaving Delphi. 
  Perhaps you would care to grace us with some information as to what in the 
  Earth Mother's blessed name is happening, and what we can do about it?" Yes, 
  she is on the verge of losing her temper. No, she has never come anywhere 
  near such a state in Faanshi's presence before. Or in most peoples' presence.

Samein gives a wry and somewhat tense little smile, stepping a bit further 
  into the shop. His shrug is a slight movement as well, but elegant in its 
  restraint. He murmurs, "Time will tell, Rainmaker. There is nothing any of 
  us can do, at this moment. The shift is of the Aether itself. We do not 
  control the central pool." He pauses for a moment, his attention inevitably 
  shifting back to Faanshi. It is fairly obvious from stance and behaviour 
  that he views her as his student now, as well. "For now, however, I ask your 
  help. Faanshi's power was rather unstable even before these occurances. 
  Perhaps I could be of aid in the process of stabalizing those abilities."

It's very likely force of habit and training that makes Faanshi seem to shrink 
  in on herself at the exchange between the two other healers, and that 
  prompts her to look uncomfortably down at her feet. Her betters are 
  discussing her. She is not unaware that neither FallingStar nor Samein would 
  call her their inferior, but still... eighteen years of being treated as a 
  servant are a powerful influence. The halfbreed girl offers no commentary 
  now, nervous enough that she falls back to waiting until she is asked to 
  speak before saying anything else.

The Sylvan draws in a breath, closing her eyes for a moment as though seeking 
  some stability for herself. "I left that name behind me," she observes. 
  "It's FallingStar, now." She finally glances toward Faanshi, some of her 
  irritation fading, replaced with concern for her student. "And I'm not 
  entirely blind to her needs, you know. I've been trying to help her. Of 
  course, with things the way they stand at the moment, I'm not certain 
  exactly what /I/ can do."

Samein considers this question himself for this moment, although he would have 
  certainly given thought to it in the past. His words drawn together at last, 
  he states flatly, "The gradual process of teaching will continue. But I 
  shall aid in matters of controlling her current ability, while hopefully her 
  talent continues to grow. I suppose I am merely asking your permission for 
  this occurance, since you are her teacher, now. FallingStar." A peculiar 
  form of deference, but one borne out of long-ingrained etiquette.

Ingrained shudra upbringing notwithstanding, Faanshi steals a worried peek 
  over the top of her veil at the others. Still she holds her tongue, but that 
  peek of hers is sign enough that she is paying active attention. At her 
  side, Kosha lets out a final bemused little whurf before settling down on 
  his haunches on the floor of the shop, willing enough to wait since this 
  does not seem to be a time for Food or Play or Hunting or Scritches.

"All I want," FallingStar all but snaps, her fraying temper getting the better 
  of her before she cuts herself off and falls silent. She clears her throat 
  quietly, continuing in a slightly more calm tone, "All I want is what's best 
  for Faanshi. That she be able to learn to master her abilities." Her hand 
  curls about the edge of the table, knuckles slowly turning white as her grip 
  tightens. "You may have no doubt of that. Therefore, I have no objection to 
  you helping her." The slight stress on the 'you' is there, if one were 
  listening. She doesn't want the /rest/ of Delphi getting involved, that's 
  for certain.

Samein inclines his head slightly, letting the implications slip by. Samein is 
  certainly no longer the head of Delphi, this much would be common knowledge, 
  and no longer even Estrel. But his actual role is much murkier. His tone is 
  serious, "Very well, then. It is agreed." And without further ado, his 
  attention shifts back to Faanshi, peering quietly at her for a moment. 
  Finally he murmurs, "An exercise, then. I shall help your power along, if 
  you are willing to try again today."

Perhaps Delphi students might be fortunate enough to have multiple teachers -- 
  but to Faanshi, who had hardly dared dream of _one_ who would be willing to 
  instruct her, to have Samein and FallingStar united in the goal of training 
  her wayward power is a blessing from Ushas herself. "You both honor me," she 
  whispers fervently, executing a deep bow to both the Varati elder and the 
  Sylvan. And to Samein she says again, as firmly as she can manage, "What 
  must I do?"

From the looks of things, FallingStar wasn't kidding when she said she wasn't 
  certain what she could do with her own magic. For, or so it appears, she 
  hasn't been using it at all lately - at least not on herself. And she's 
  perfectly happy to let Samein do the teaching, so she can sit back and 
  pretend that she doesn't have a headache, and her joints aren't hurting, and 
  that she's still completely confident in herself.

Samein's smile is somewhat more gentle now, even if he cannot be all to 
  pleased with all of the bowing. "Perhaps we can evaluate the trouble, and 
  help you work around this warping of the Aether. I realize this must be 
  quite traumatic, with such a shaky foundation to begin with. Perhaps... try 
  a simple relieving of pain, as you did with my shoulders the other day. I 
  will help as need be, and contain any ill effects."

Slowly, but unmistakably, the shudra straightens up her posture; the business 
  of knowledge to be earned and the reason _why_ she must have that knowledge 
  giving her the courage to look up, to meet Samein's gaze, to listen with all 
  her heart. "I will try," she promises huskily. "I tried, um, I tried to heal 
  last night, but the magic felt wrong...!"

"Indeed. It does feel odd, when it's there to feel." FallingStar sighs, 
  dragging a stool out from under the worktable and settling down upon it. "Of 
  course, if the mage from Delphi insists we simply have to wait it out, then 
  I suppose we simply have to wait it out." Sarcasm all but drips from the 
  D-word.

Samein gives another of his knowing hints of a nod, and takes a step backwards 
  now, leaning his own undoubtedly sore and overtired frame against the door. 
  He has not been immune to the visions and warping of the aether, certainly. 
  FallingStar's scintillating commentary is all but ignored, or at least any 
  answer is restrained. "Yes... try again, and perhaps I can aid you in 
  straightening it out. Project as much as you can. Not so much brutal 
  restraint as when we last met."

"All right, acarya." 'Acarya' -- Faanshi has used the word for FallingStar 
  before, and now, apparently, it has been extended to include Samein as well. 
  One more green glance shoots from Sylvan to Varati, and then, just to be 
  sure, the halfbreed girl clarifies, "You w-wish me to work upon you, sir? I 
  can... feel ache, but I can't tell which of you it is from..." Uneasily, 
  Faanshi trails off, the admission of her lack being voiced only hesitantly. 
  She does not bother to mention the dull throb behind her own eyes, 
  dismissing it as inconsequential.

Samein gives a faint shrug, seeming a bit more obviously weary now that he is 
  in a more relaxed posture -- his previously erect stance hid many ailments. 
  "That is inconsequential. If FallingStar would be willing, you might 
  certainly work on her. This is merely for the purposes of instruction. And a 
  growth of comfort."

FallingStar arches a brow in Samein's direction, freckle-dusted nose wrinkling 
  just slightly. "You may have a seat, if you wish," she observes, nudging the 
  other stool out from under the table. "I don't usually force tired guests to 
  stay on their feet all day." The question of what Faanshi may or not be 
  sensing from her direction is simply not answered.

As FallingStar sees to the offering of the stool, the younger woman pauses in 
  momentary bemusement. Every tenet of the way she has been raised suggests 
  she should give Samein the first claim to any work she might be able to do, 
  given his age, his gender, and his rank. But FallingStar was her first 
  teacher -- and Faanshi, half Sylvan, feels a pang of indecision. Her gaze 
  flickers to the older woman, as she asks gravely, "Do you wish me to 
  practice upon you... or shall I do so on Acarya Samein?"

Samein's slightly grumpy exterior does not allow for any display of 
  preference, and he seems content to let the student hash it out with Sylvan. 
  As for himself, he shoots a vaguely grateful glance towards Falling Star, 
  and ambles towards the stool. He does, however, pick it up and begin ambling 
  back to his previous position with it. Once a man's decided his position in 
  life, it's hard to make a change. Especially if you're an old Varati.

The Sylvan only twitches a slight smile in response to Faanshi's query. "It 
  being Samein's lesson, I wouldn't wish to intrude upon it by making the 
  decision for you." She shakes her head once, then rests elbows on the table 
  and chin in her hands. "Although, I believe you're a little closer to him 
  than to me. You might as well aid him."

The old Varati's taking a place by the door gets him as an immediate companion 
  in Kosha, though the dog's only contribution to this lesson is to sniff 
  inquiringly at the august personage's nearest foot. Faanshi in the meantime 
  bobs her sari-covered head to FallingStar and turns to shyly approach 
  Samein, nodding in acknowledge of his prior words regarding her restraint. 
  In solemn politeness, lifting her slender hands, she inquires, "May I, sir?"

Relatively nice though he may be, Samein seems a tad bit impatient with all of 
  this dancing around the issue and asking for permission. His nod is somewhat 
  curt, even if his tone is patient and fairly kind. "Of course." No need to 
  recap anything else; he waits for something to actually occur.

FallingStar half-closes her eyes, watching the proceedings through her lashes 
  as she cautiously reaches out to test the waters, so to speak. Checking to 
  see how the aether flows this day, and out of habit, keeping an eye on 
  Faanshi. She only watches, though, passively - not actually drawing upon the 
  magic.

Samein might be grumpy at Faanshi's excessive submissiveness -- but the maiden 
  has been taught her lessons hard and taught them well, and it is taking much 
  for her to balance this against the old mage's insistence that she treat him 
  as her equal. His tersely granted leave is enough for her, though, and she 
  settles her hands upon his shoulders, closing her eyes and reaching for the 
  magic lying quiescent within her. Its response is immediate, doubtless due 
  to the disturbances that have been plaguing mages all over Haven the last 
  many days, surging up from within the halfbreed with enough force to show 
  that the restraint she'd been exhibiting when last she and Samein met was 
  being exerted on a considerable wellspring of power.

Considerable indeed, and Samein fairly snaps to attention, his eyes unfocusing 
  as he stares up at Faanshi's face, his attention intent upon several levels 
  of reality. His hands shift in his lap, twisting themselves together, and 
  whatever her efforts, his level of tension is certainly fairly acute. Samein 
  creates a sort of safety barrier, a currently weak line in the sand, just 
  testing the outer limits of the power. He murmurs quietly, his voice seeming 
  distant, "Yes. Keep going. Exert all that you have." A somewhat dangerous 
  request perhaps, but Samein seems fairly assured of his ability to stamp out 
  any side fires.

Right. Well, it's Samein's mind - if it gets fried, FallingStar will gladly 
  watch him try to pick up the pieces. Faanshi, however, is watched quite 
  closely. Don't want her student getting hurt, even if she isn't quite so 
  picky about Delphi-types.

Despite the veil that hides the lower half of her visage, Faanshi is now 
  broadcasting significant strain in those big green eyes of hers, and a sheen 
  of sweat beads out across her golden brow. Around her the aether bucks and 
  lashes as she struggles to contain her magic in the channels of control 
  she's managed to establish -- but it's easy enough to feel that she's doing 
  so only by mighty concentration. 'Look' at him, she urges herself. That's 
  what FallingStar has been instructing her to do as of late, and that's what 
  she's always tried to practice: seek out anything wrong. Then make it right. 
  But her magic whips out of her with a strength she hasn't felt since it tore 
  out of her control in the Tent City, and a little groan escapes her as she 
  tries to maintain control now.

Samein's face still seems a bit tense with the exhertion of merely standing at 
  ready in this way, preparing his responses. His movements are languid, 
  however, and he reaches up with one hand, smoothing Faanshi's brow with his 
  palm in a somewhat paternal gesture. He murmurs quietly, "Good. I shall be 
  here if anything goes wrong; don't worry." Although if anything were to go 
  /really/ wrong and he were the recipient of some anti-healing while trying 
  to contain it, there might be something to worry about.

Don't worry. Right. FallingStar, for all her outward silence as she watches, 
  is worrying away enough for both Faanshi and herself. If something were to 
  go wrong, Samein had better do something about it, since the Sylvan is 
  currently doubting her ability to do the same. Or even fix it if he misses.

Magic swirls out from the maiden's hands to course up and down through the old 
  Varati's system in a crackle of electric sensation -- and Faanshi is struck 
  breathless as her thoughts are assailed from several directions at once with 
  an acute awareness of several random details of his body's workings. The 
  pulse of his heart in his chest, the flowing of blood through his veins, 
  subliminal impressions of the shapes of bones within his arms and legs and 
  fingers. "I... can't... find what's wrong," she mumbles, her normally soft 
  cadences turned strained and made louder for it.

Samein gives a quiet, rather dry chuckle, interjecting in a faintly amused 
  tone, "Very good, then. I don't believe there's much of anything wrong with 
  me. I would hate to have you fix what isn't broken." Despite the relative 
  lightness of his words, the old mage retains an intent concentration on 
  Faanshi herself. The hand which had smoothed her brow drops back his lap.

"Is this really wise to toy with?" FallingStar inquires, absently rubbing one 
  fingertip against her temple. "I...don't like the feel of things at the 
  moment. Perhaps it would be better to wait for this to end." Her philosophy, 
  at least. Don't play with fire, especially not when someone's unexpectedly 
  added strange fuel to it.

The shudra girl's eyes flash open, seeking out Samein's stern and aged 
  countenance. "Not hurt," she reports hoarsely, "not sick..." She bobs her 
  sari-covered head in acknowledgement of his words, but as she hears 
  FallingStar speak she glances the Sylvan's way... apparently too quickly, 
  for between that movement and the swirl of power she is now trying to 
  contain, the girl staggers. Her eyes close again, hard.

Kosha whines from where he sits, watching all this, and deeply disturbed by 
  his young mistress's behavior... and who knows? Perhaps the hound senses 
  something in the strangeness that has swept over the entire city.

Not hurt indeed. Samein's control of the aether which Faanshi herself 
  manipulates is suddenly rigid, his aura nearly blinding for a moment if it 
  were to be pursued on any sort of visual spectrum. His hand reaches up to 
  clasp her arm, but in the moment of her virtual stumble, her control of her 
  very own power very nearly ends, superceded by Samein's Will. A muscle 
  twitches slightly at the edge of his jaw.

There we go. That's what FallingStar would've done. Yep. Just about to. She 
  just wanted to let the Varati continue his lesson. She grows still again, 
  watching the proceedings to make sure everything really is under control, 
  and that she's not going to need to step in any time soon.

Faanshi lets out a tiny, sharp gasp that sounds almost as if she'd made the 
  noise through gravel or shards of glass in her throat. But the moment the 
  arch-magus exerts his will over her magic it sullenly subsides, leaving 
  lingering nausea in its wake and a slender arm quivering in Samein's grasp. 
  For a few breaths, Faanshi struggles to regain control of her body if not 
  control of her power, and after a few desperate gasps she croaks tinily, "Do 
  you wish me to try again, acarya?"

The sense of charge in the air is mostly gone now, diffused into the 
  atmosphere to join the rest of the stormy, warped composition the aether at 
  large has taken of late. Samein calmly lets it bleed away, still holding 
  Faanshi's arm as if to be able to catch her if she falls. He murmurs calmly, 
  "I would suggest that you rest, first." The old man rises slowly from his 
  hard-won stool, apparently about to offer it to Faanshi. He hardly seems to 
  have exherted himself in the incident, although there is a very slight 
  tremble to his form as he rises. This is apparently something he has had to 
  do in the past.

"I would concur," FallingStar offers, watching the halfbreed girl with concern 
  distinctly apparent in her expression. "How do you feel?" The Sylvan starts 
  to rise from her own seat, trying to decide if she should stay there or come 
  over - too many cooks and all that.

If these were any other people, Faanshi might revert to a shudra's stoicism; 
  it has been her understanding in life that few people care much for the 
  physical welfare of a servant, especially a halfbreed. But these are not 
  just any people, and thus, the girl admits hoarsely, "I feel... a little 
  sick. Like I used to... when... I could not heal someone because they 
  wouldn't let me."

Samein nods a bit curtly, but this is perhaps only a function of the fact that 
  Faanshi had not yet taken his offered seat. He clasps her arm lightly once 
  more, and begins to guide her to a sitting position on the stool, gentle but 
  fairly insistent. "The power got away from you for a moment. But this, too, 
  can aid in your learning. That feeling is something that you remember well, 
  and this is all the better to learn avoidance.

FallingStar drops back onto her seat again, giving an exhalation that's almost 
  a relieved sigh. Well, nobody was hurt. Small mercies, at least. Now she can 
  return to being grumpy and complaining to herself about how much her head 
  aches.

The halfbreed sinks carefully onto the stool, looking up uneasily at the man 
  before her while reaching instinctively for the dog who scoots closer to her 
  in an attempt to make sure she's all right. "I... am familiar with this 
  feeling," she whispers. "It is how my power used to feel... for many years."

Samein inclines his head slightly, his voice flowing onwards, even and calm. 
  "This is how we build a framework of control, through supervised danger. The 
  same danger that would have brought you one step closer to consumption is 
  now merely a harmless lesson. Although..." He smiles ruefully. "I must admit 
  it is difficult for the teacher, and therefore not widely feasible. I am 
  blessed in having several abilities.

Yes, well, we can't all be godlike in magic as well as ego. FallingStar simply 
  mutters a few choice comments to herself, instead of interrupting the lesson 
  - this time. Her irritation at Samein, though, is quite overcome by her 
  concern for the halfbreed, who she focuses most of her attention on.

The girl on the stool bobs her head slowly, eyes closed, waiting for her 
  queasiness to settle down again as she strokes the head of her anxious-eyed 
  dog. "Yes, sir," she murmurs in reply then, lifting her gaze back up. "What 
  must I do now?"

Samein's response is deceptively simple, "Rest, and try again." He pauses for 
  a moment, and then adds a bit more amiably, "The day is still young." The 
  old man casts a glance towards FallingStar for a moment then, considering 
  the Sylvan's apparent irritation. He can apparently think of nothing to say 
  to her, however.

"And the magic still feels all wrong." FallingStar is, quite obviously, under 
  no such lack of words, as her eyes narrow once more upon the older Varati. 
  "I suppose that now you're going to tell me that this isn't going to end? 
  That we'll have to toy with fire every time we wish to touch the aether?"

Samein's response is swift, his voice serious to the point of seeming somewhat 
  stern. "You toy with fire in touching the Aether, always. If it seems 
  somewhat more pronounced now, well, history moves in cycles. This is not the 
  first time. It will quiet down once again. But I, personally, cannot do a 
  thing about it." He pauses a moment, and shrugs in FallingStar's direction, 
  his features softening a bit as he adds, "Quite unfortunately."

It seems to Faanshi that if the aether is changing, this is all the more 
  reason for her to get her power under control, or to at least develop enough 
  control to function as best she can. "I am ready to try again," she 
  pronounces as firmly and earnestly as she can, sitting up a little 
  straighter on the stool.

FallingStar lowers her head again, pressing the heels of her hands against her 
  forehead as though she could push out the headache. "Gods above," she 
  murmurs, her momentary flare of irritability subsiding again. Almost to the 
  point that she'd dare to try to fix that headache - but there's always the 
  lingering memory of what happened the last time she tried.

Samein's attention returns to the pupil at hand, and the smile he gives her is 
  oddly gentle. This impression is bolstered by the fact that Samein seems to 
  be showing a bit more of his fatigue now, after standing for a bit. He 
  murmurs quietly, "Good. I shall supervise once again, and also augment, if 
  need be. Will you clear FallingStar's head of pain, at least for now?"

The idea that the Sylvan might be in pain propels Faanshi to her feet with a 
  notable speed, far more quickly than she'd sat down. But she seems steady 
  enough now, and her gaze shoots in concern to the older woman. Stepping 
  closer, she asks the same leave of her that she had of the old arch-magus: 
  "May I...?"

Startlement makes FallingStar look up again, giving Samein a look of mingled 
  gratitude and annoyance. What gives him the right to be blabbing about her 
  headache? Well, besides the fact that it's making her temper worse, and she 
  keeps taking it out on him. That's no reason at all. As she turns her gaze 
  back to Faanshi, the Sylvan nods just once, with a faint sigh. "Very well."

Samein's slow strides take him over to stand by Faanshi's side then, his hand 
  hovering for a moment by her arm before dropping away, never really touching 
  her. He is the observer once more, and that expansive pool of control he 
  seems to wield seems at the ready, near the forefront once more. But his 
  fatigue is as well. One more slip-up and Samein will no doubt be ready to 
  sleep.

Softly, then, Faanshi steps to the younger of her two teachers. Once again she 
  lifts a hand, venturing to touch dainty fingertips to FallingStar's brow, 
  and once again she reaches within to try to touch her magic and summon it 
  forth. The power had subsided under Samein's iron will, but it had not 
  returned to slumber, and it surges up again with the slightest of 
  provocations. This time, Faanshi's own will clamps in on it with a 
  fierceness that belies the girl's usually demure behavior. This time, the 
  magic goes where she wishes it, reaching out for FallingStar and seeking the 
  source of her pain. But to he who watches, it may well feel like trying to 
  lift a single fish out of the ocean with a gigantic net.

FallingStar's fists clench, then slowly relax again, as the Sylvan 'watches' 
  the power being wielded. After all, it's headed in her direction this time, 
  which gives her all the more reason to make sure it stays under control. 
  Almost, almost she reaches out to take hold and support, but as Faanshi 
  shows that she's in control, her teacher only relaxes again. If it helps her 
  headache, it's a good thing. Especially if it doesn't fry her in the process.

Samein seems to relax a bit as well, his hands folding in front of him in a 
  quiet show of being more at ease. Still he watches carefully, but now his 
  voice is a bit less tense, "Good. To me, healing is more of an intuitive 
  magic than a cerebral one. Less vision than gut."

Faanshi manages nothing more than a single nod to Samein's words, for the 
  lion's share of her attention is riveted now upon FallingStar. The 
  halfbreed's power wells up through her hand into the Sylvan woman's head, 
  surging unerringly for the pulse behind her eyes and bathing it in a flood 
  of healing power. Then it roars back again, a tide rolling back the way it 
  had come, leaving relief in its wake. Behind her veil, Faanshi has gone as 
  white as a girl with a dusky-golden complexion can go.

[With the young shudra seeming drained as she is -- and the two older healers
 both not immune to the strange roilings the aether has undergone as of late
 -- FallingStar and Samein do not try to press Faanshi much farther. End log.]