"Rand, what would happen if you dove into the Seeing Pool?" Kitry asked in an offhand manner. She twirled the base of her wine glass in lazy circles on the tabletop. Her green eyes stared at something over my left shoulder. I suppressed an urge to turn and look, knowing I wouldn't see whatever it was that she did. When first I met her, she would stare off at something, and invariably I would turn, trying to see what fascinated her so. Finally, one day, I asked her. Laughing, she told me she was blind.
       I stared at her. Her eyes glanced at me, moved past, and finally settled on something to my right. I stumbled around in my mind for something to say, to answer her question, but kept hitting one great big obstacle. Jumping into the Seeing Pool was heresy! Plain and simple. Then I thought, she didn't suggest we do it, she only speculated on what might happen. She did this to me a lot, asking questions that danced on the edges of blasphemy.
       We were both acolytes of the Holy Order, learning the skills of weaponscraft, healing, and magework. I was of the Second Level--a Black Robe, officially a Lesser Priest or Teacher Priest. I was working on fine tuning my skills, preparing for the final examinations that would determine whether I would advance and don the White Robe of a Questor. Kitry was a newly anointed Blue Robe--Third Level--learning the free magics, and she had been assigned to me for instruction.
       Thinking back, now, I am sure she was a part of my examinations. She exercised my abilities and my resourcefulness--how do you teach a blind person the freedom of sight--the most integral part of the free magics? She tested my pride and humility, achieving the Blue in less than five years when it had taken me fifteen; and she sorely stretched my patience and belief by asking questions like this.
       "Rand," she persisted softly, now looking directly at my nose. I caught myself crossing my eyes and looked at her instead. "What do you suppose would happen?"
       "You would be flogged, or worse, for committing sacrilege," I answered evasively. I knew she was fully aware of the punishments, you learn those as a Gray-robed novice. She was asking what would happen on the nonphysical plane. It was a perfectly logical question. She was learning the free magics, which consisted of the arts of communication, motion and sight.
       We had visited the Seeing Pool--a quiet, waveless pond hidden in the deepest part of the Sacred Caves--earlier that morning. I didn't expect much to happen, considering that she was blind. Surprisingly, when she gazed into the Pool, she could see the tableau as easily as I. She gasped in amazement and delight, and I spent much of that session telling her the names of colors. We watched as a warrior defeated an enemy and saw a herd of wild horses race the wind across an ocean of golden grass. She giggled, thrilled with the playful antics of a pair of river otters that appeared, exclaiming sadly when a hunter's arrow pierced one of the sleek bodies.
       In an attempt to redirect the conversation--one of my biggest failings is that I have a hard time even imagining breaking a rule. I tend to feel guilty and break out in a cold sweat--I asked her, "Would you like more wine?"
       "No," she replied, tilting her glass at me. Her eyes seemed to look directly at it as she remarked, "I still have plenty."
       It was true, still half-full. So much for redirection.
       Her gaze darted to my lap, stayed there. I fought an overwhelming urge to squirm, feeling naked under her blind stare.
       "I know the punishments," she started before I could think of anything else to say. "I was just wondering. Would you end up at the scene you were watching? Or would you just get very wet?"
       "Wet."
       I was decidedly uncomfortable, and it wasn't because of the topic anymore. Kitry isn't what you would call a classic beauty, but she isn't ugly by a long shot. Having her emerald-colored eyes staring directly at my private parts was... disconcerting. I knew she couldn't see anything, but I could feel myself stirring, and a hot flush suffused my body. It was embarrassing, to say the least. To extricate myself, I rose to my feet, saying, "Let's get some sleep, it's getting late." A lame excuse, I know.
       Standing, Kitry's head barely came to my chin, and the soft folds of her sky-blue robe emphasized the soft swells of her body. Swallowing, I turned away, but her image seemed burned into my eyes. I could still see the gentle swell of her breasts, the delicate outline of her hips flaring from her tiny waist. And her hair. I've always had a weakness for blondes, but Kitry has this amazing, thick, knee-length auburn hair that swirls and eddies around her with a life of its own. I gulped and bid her good-night, then made a hasty retreat to my room before I could even think of breaking that particular rule.