You amble northwestwards to the bright and cheerful living cavern.
Sanriel is sitting at a table, staring bleary-eyed at a scroll. A quillpen is poised in one hand, but she doesn't look particularly inclined to use it. Beside her, the only pot of klah in the cavern sits. (It being night, and the cauldron not refilled yet.)
Ilesyn glances into the empty cauldron, as she comes up short beside it, having weaved her way across from hte Inner Cavern, and grimaces. She's spied Sanriel's pot of klah, but she's really not inclined to join the Harper. With a great, heaving sigh, she pours herself a glass of water instead, glumly searching around for a seat. Of course - her luck being her luck - she ends up at the very next table from Sanriel, it being the only empty spot where she's even somewhat welcome.
Sanriel looks up at the general hubbub the Healer's appearance causes. A slightly feral grin crosses her face, and she says "Good morning... Good /early/ morning, Healer! Up late, or early?"
Ilesyn turns, very slowly, as if she's not particularly willing to do so, but is also more than willing to prove that she's able to be less than civil to those she dislikes. "Up at a perfectly reasonable time for one whose patients are apt to screaming attacks at any time of the day or night, as their mental inhibitions desire," she replies, calmly. "Couldn't sleep, Harper, dear? Worrying over all your unresolved issues, no doubt. Sleeplessness, and disrupted cycles of sleep, are time-honoured symptons, indeed."
Ahh, starting the bickering early, this morning. Very well. "Yes, actually. I've been having terrible trouble sleeping... You see, there's this /thing/ nagging at me... A kind of a voice..." Sanriel replies, for all the world serious.
Ilesyn's lips curl into a lazy smile around the edge of her mug, "Even fabricating such things suggests a mental imbalance, Harper."
Sanriel blinks, then taps the hides before her. "You think I'm lying? I've been up for the last two days writing the greatest symphony I've ever /composed/!" Perhaps not the greatest, but who is anyone but an accomplished Harper to tell?
"Obsession, similarly, is a less than satisfactory sign," continues Ilesyn, without even skipping a beat. "Such would either be the sign of genius - which I would doubt - or a sign of obsession, which is hardly any better than the genius/madness combination."
"Now all I need is a dragon." Sanriel comments acidly "And my psychosis will be complete."
Ilesyn nods, sagely. "Well, not a dragon. To lust after a dragon, certainly. To /want/ to stand, heedless of the dangers, again a problem. It is no wonder that dragonriders suffer many psychological complaints, including idiotic ideas that they consider brilliant, and delusions in many forms."
"Now, I didn't say that, did I?" Sanriel insists. "Wanting to Impress is pure insanity... Or unparalleled heroicism. Anyway, my Aria is quite enough dragon for /me/!" she taps her quillpen on the hide before scribbling down another notation. "Have you finished the list of my many shortcomings?"
Ilesyn, for a moment, almost looks inclined to approve of Sanriel. This is swallowed back, after a pause, and a wry, cynical expression. "The list could go on for a good long time, Harper. I shan't bore you with it."
Sanriel nods. "Well, I didn't give you the task, my dear, you gave it to yourself. And by the way... In the light of equality, am i to be making a list of /your/ shortcomings, as well?"
"You're not qualified to make an objective list," notes Ilesyn, "Although I cannot stop you from doing so, if you consider it important. I will not deny that I have shortcomings, although I must insist that I make an effort to remedy them."
Oh-ho! How tempting... But Sanriel resists. Barely. "You do?" she says finally. "I hadn't noticed."
Ilesyn pauses in order to set her mug down upon the wooden tabletop, nodding her head. "You are not trained to notice such things, as I am. It is my task to notice every nuance of a person, and thus, I see things within myself, and change them, although others may not have noted that they required changing to begin with."
"Like a piece." Sanriel nods. "Where C is put to better use than A minor, but no one but you will ever notice." She says almost respectfully.
Ilesyn knows very little about music, but nods her head regardless. "Exactly."
"And so you're trying to accomplish the same refinement with the weyr?" It's not really a question. "It seems to me as though you're... How shall I put this. Banging on the gitar instead of tuning it?" Sanriel the philosopher.
Ilesyn's eyebrows lift. "You do not approve of my methods? I have exceptional results, in many cases, already. I've also provided two works for the Healer Hall's library on Mindhealing, both of which have recieved excellent feedback."
Sanriel nods. "Not to mention sleepless nights, a black eye..."
"Jaw," corrects Ilesyn smoothly. "Both of which are normal occupational hazards. I could expect worse."
"A hazardous craft." the Harper notes. "Why is it that you chose mindhealing, Ilesyn, over, say... Herbs.. Or something."
Ilesyn's nose wrinkles immediately. "Awful things, herbs. The mind-- fascinates me. It interests me, as bodies do not." Ilesyn's hardly the picture of health and beauty, after all.
Sanriel leans forward, interested despite yourself. "Did you know that right away, or choose the specialty later on? Are you planning to go for a Mastership?"
Ilesyn, if she's at all surprised at this interest, says nothing about it - for once. "I entered as a normal apprentice," she relates, "And discovered mindhealing a short while later, as I began to tire of physical healing. I knew then that it was the only kind of healing for me." Her expression turns wry. "Do you? Intend to go for a Mastership, I mean. Of course I do-- but it will all depend upon the quality of my papers, and my success."
Sanriel nods decisively, ambition glinting in her eyes. "Yes. And I will succeed. My goal is to accomplish it by twenty-five, which gives me three years."
Ilesyn lifts her eyebrows. "Twenty-five? There are many apprentices who have not achieved Journeyman by such an early age. It is still very young. I would caution such ambition."
"It's my life's goal, my dear Healer. I waited /years/ to see the Hall, and I fell in love. I'm only away to complete the requirements so I can go back! And besides..." she leans forward, adding with feverish intensity. "Where else can I find the musicians accomplished enough to play my pieces?"
"Surely," beings Ilesyn, rolling her eyes, "with all /your/ rider 'friends'," is that a sneer, along with a glance towards Sanriel's abdomen? "You should be able to go back and visit any time you like."
Sanriel blinks. "Odd, that. How many frinds I have, I mean. Considering how no one likes me..." A reference to the previous conversation.
Ilesyn's lips fall towards a smirk. "Exactly." Sarcasm? Or--- Who knows.
Sanriel raises an eyebrow, convinced the Healer just gave away her own deception. She opens her mouth to say something but thinks better of it, covering with a sip from her mug.
Ilesyn's attention does not waver, nor does her expression; if she's concerned that she gave herself away - if she did - she makes no reference to it in any form of communication. Instead, she continues, "My point of course would be that you do /not/ return to the Hall very often, do you now?"
"Quite often, actually." Sanriel replies just to be contrary. "When time allows. I can't shirk my duties here, however. Regardless of my popularity, I've got work to do."
Ilesyn draws her mug back towards her lips, calmly. "Of course. Quite the perfect little Harper, aren't we?"
"Hardly," Sanriel laughs "I've got my fair share of imperfections and dysfunctionalities, my dear Healer." She leans back, giving her stomach a pat. "But there is a distinct line between being perfect and being functional."
Ilesyn's eyes roll. "Of course," she drawls. "Pregnant, with no man in sight, ambitious to a fault, sarcastic... We could go on. Good day, Harper." She's off - quickly, which is unusual enough for the lazy healer.
You amble southeastwards to the darker inner cavern.
FTW LC>>Sanriel is, once again left laughing after the Healer, though this time it's more at herself, and less funny.
Posted by Louise at January 29, 2003 11:11 AM