Flashback Initiation's A Bitch (Khal'iah)

[Aren]

Riverfall, Knirin Gardens: 47th of Spring, 512 AV Riverfall. Why was he still here? Why did he insist on staying in this heart wrenching hole of a city?! There was nothing left for him here, just like it had been all those years ago, when he had left the first time around. "Bah!" Aren grumbled, annoyed with himself in more ways than he could count. She was gone, and she wasn't coming back. Brooding about it like a child certainly wasn't going to do anything to change that. Currently, the akalak found himself in the Knirin Gardens, if garden was the appropriate word anymore. Many days ago, the djed storm had turned the usually clear water into sludge, and the landscape was still not fully recovered yet. The beauty his people created was not easily undone, however, and even in chaos the area had retained a majestic feel to it. It had been nearly a quarter season since the storm, though, and the foliage was now looking much better. No doubt someone was carefully tending to the gardens in the wake of the disaster. Unfortunately, despite the calming scenery, Aren could not find much peace of mind. It seemed like he had spent so many days in this fugue-like state, but he was tired of it. He wanted to move on, to put it all behind him, and he had decided a little training was just what he needed. If he was too tired to form a coherent thought, the akalak reasoned, he would be too tired to feel sorry for himself. In pursuit of this noble goal, Aren decided that his training session needed to tax every aspect of his being. Complete mental and physical exhaustion was the only acceptable result, and as such he realized that he would have to incorporate a little reimancy into his workout. Fortunately, the gardens were still sparsely populated, and he had chosen a particularly secluded spot just to be on the safe side. Scythe in hand, it's snaith (the staff part) firmly entrenched in the ground, Aren's hand glossed over the blade of the weapon. Creating a coating of res where his hand fell, he divided the substance into a twin layered concoction. The inner mantle was simply the safety mechanism by which he prevented long term damage to his weapon and controlled the product of his sorcery. The outer skin was the business end of the spell, by which he achieved the desired destructive potential. "Burn..." The warrior intoned, nature itself seemingly obeying his command as flames engulfed the blade of his scythe.

[Khal'iah]

Despite the unnatural storm that had assaulted the fair city of Riverfall, the environment was beginning to resemble that of the norm. The parks and gardens that were scattered about the realm, albeit scarred from the cataclysmic event, were now returning to normal through the careful work of many of the city's denizens. It was truly a welcome and warming sight to behold, especially whilst one sprinted about getting in an afternoon workout. Whilst traversing Riverfall at a swift pace, the dark violet-skinned Akalak born to the name Khal'iah Vojak took solice in the recovery of the city's nature. After all, this was his home: his birthplace, and it pained him to see it wounded in any regard. His journey bore the young warrior through the streets of Riverfall and ultimately to the Knirin Gardens, one of the many recovering sites throughout the city. The Akalak then slowed his pace to that of a leisurely walk and lifted his arms above his head; beginning the process of catching his breath. Whilst his heart raced and he sucked in breath after breath, the young warrior managed to overhear a rather strange noise...the sound of a flame coming to life. This was rather misplaced in a location such as the garden, and Khal'iah's first instinct was to think that some vandal was attempting to deface the Garden. With haste, he first drew both his longsword and his Lakan from their sheathes upon his belt, then gave his off-hand a confident shake to set his buckler into place before jogging off in the direction of the sound. While he expected to see some delinquent youth setting plants ablaze, he never anticipated the site of a fellow warrior with a scythe whose blade was on fire! 'This...must be some form of magic...' Khal'iah thought to himself, lowering his weapons in order to denote that he was of no threat to the person before him...unless, of course, that person's intention was to set the Garden ablaze with his scythe. "Excuse me! You there! What, pray tell, are you doing?" he asked, speaking in perfect Tukant. Though his arms were lowered, his grip upon them was sure and his guard was up: Khal'iah was ready an anticipating any aggression.

[Aren]

Aren took a couple of practice swings before beginning his routine, as if to acclimate himself with the balance and heft of his scythe. It was an unnecessary convention, familiar as he was with both aspects of the weapon, but one which he generally tended to follow. Like many other things, this notion had been drilled into him by his father, and he observed it out of sheer reflex more than anything else. Before the akalak could actually begin his training session, however, the language of his people assualted his ears in a most unceremonious fashion. Tracing his hand over the flame which gripped his scythe, Aren quickly encased it in a bubble of his own res. Once it was completely contained, the air inside was drawn towards the walls of the spherical construct, starving out the fire within. Only when this was done did the warrior turn to face his unexpected guest, simultaneously allowing his res to dissipiate beyond coherent form. "Just training," He answered, his tukant admitedly a bit rusty. As Aren's golden eyes centered on this intruder, he didn't know know what to make of him. The guy was either the runt of his particular litter, or he wasn't fully grown yet. Either way, the azure akalak could tell that his kinsman was probably rather young, at least for one of his kind. "Same as you, this one hazards to guess," Aren added, noticing that his guest seemed out of breath, and that his weapons were drawn. His flawed use of tukant was a dead give away that he had been long absent it's practice, but the blue warrior had never particularly cared to retain his native tongue, actually seeing it almost like a badge of honor. In contrast, this young one's command of the language was impeccable, which told Aren that he likely had never been outside of Riverfall for any length of time. "Is there something I can do for you?" The cerulean akalak queried, this time in common, curious to ascertain the veracity of his conclusions.

[Khal'iah]

It came as an immense relief to the young Akalak that his senior kinsman was not attempting to bring further destruction to the recovering gardens. The relief only intensified once the azure-skinned male extinguished the fire about his weapon's blade, thus spurning Khal'iah to lower his weapons and lower his head apologetically. It did not take much for the young male to recognize a member of his race whom was older, and as such he needed to render respect where it was due. "My sincerest apologies for interrupting your training. I heard the sound of your...fire's....ignition and thought only the worst. I beg your pardon of my rashness. It's just that, in the face of the terrible storms that wreaked so much havoc upon our home, I have been...a tad on edge as of late." With the apology rendered, Khal'iah elevated his head and stood tall. He inhaled deeply in order to fully catch his breath before continuing. "My name is Khal'iah Vojak, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Sir. As you had ascertained, I am indeed training at this very moment. I..." he trailed off, debating how to put his thoughts into words. In all his years of life, he had never witnessed such a display of power at the hands of anyone. It was his goal to grow stronger, it was his passion to attain new strengths...and here was one that he had never seen before! "I...and forgive my forwardness...have never witnessed that particular art before. The art in which you coated your blade in flame. If it...is not too much trouble...perhaps I could join you in your training? It seems to be immensely powerful and something that I would very much like to learn.." Once more, the Akalak lowered his head out of respect and awaited the response of his senior. He dearly hoped that his request would be met with affirmation and that, by the conclusion of their encounter, he would walk away with a new strength.

[Aren]

"I understand," Aren gave a polite nod, acknowledging his brethren's apology for the interruption to his training, and promptly turned around in order to return to said training. Unfortunately, his violet hued countryman did not seem inclined to let the matter rest there. Once again, the azure akalak found himself forced to face the individual in question, as the latter introduced himself. Although the continued interruption was a source of some annoyance for the older warrior, Aren couldn't bring himself to be rude simply because he was currently in a disagreeable mood. And so, after a weary sigh, the larger akalak returned the courtesy, "Aren Anazasz." Fortunately, that did seem to be the end of that, as Khal'iah's thoughts seemed too burdensome to finish voicing. At least, that was what Aren thought, though it didn't take him long to find out just how sorely mistaken he was. The taller of the pair now eyed his new acquaintance with a mixture of apprehension and caution. Magic was not exactly a subject one nonchalantly discussed with strangers, even if there were no specific laws against it wherever you found yourself. Laws or not, sufficiently frightened people were just as likely to lynch you whether there was a piece of paper somewhere that told them they could, or not. "From your words, it seems you're no reimancer, which means you would be unable to participate in the training I'm doing," Aren stated, finally deciding that there was no point in trying to deny what he could do. The lad seemed certain of what he had seen, and he did not look to be frightened by it. "And, unfortunately, it's not something that can be taught in the same manner one would teach someone the basics of gripping a sword or holding a shield," The older akalak informed Khal'iah, using an example he thought the eager young man could understand.

[Khal'iah]

The young Akalak continued to hold his silence whilst his senior addressed him. Curiously enough, Khal'iah had never encountered magic before and had minimal knowledge of its existence, save for stories and rumors. As such, he had no reason, at least in his mind, to fear the force at the disposal of his senior. Khal'iah kept his head low, mulling over a proper response to that which Aren had said...this art wasn't something that could be taught like wielding a sword...thus, it would be something drastically outside that which the young warrior was used to. A grin formed upon his face at the mere thought of this and he elevated his countenance once more. "But," Khal'iah began, choosing his words carefully, "it can still be taught." He took a confident step forward, his arms moving about as he began to orchestrate his thoughts. "Aren Anazasz, I would make for a poor warrior if I simply restricted myself to the gripping of a sword and the holding of a shield if I know there is much more out there. Strength comes in all forms, and it is the goal of my life to accumulate as much strength as possible...in this way, perhaps I will be able to..." His train of thought conjured up a nasty tide of memories, mental images to the passing of one he held so dear. Even though the event had transpired years prior, the Akalak still got lumps in his throat whenever he thought about his departed twin. "P-Perhaps I'll be able to protect that which is most precious to me." he managed to stammer out, fighting the lump that he lodged itself in his throat. Khal'iah shook it off and took another step forward, steeling himself as he continued. "I care not for the challenges that this art entails, I will gladly and boldly meet them all head on. Teach me how to be a Reimancer Aren Anazasz, and I promise you that you will not be disappointed!"

[Aren]

The moment Aren saw the grin plastered on Khal'iah's face, he knew things were about to get complicated. He recognized what that particular expression meant, because it was a trait they both shared. The blue akalak nodded to confirm his countryman's statement that reimancy could still be taught, even if the matter wasn't as simple as that. Magic, and especially personal magic, had it's own set of hazards associated with it's learning and use. It was certainly not impossible, and Aren was capable... but was he willing? Khal'iah was eager to learn, of that there could be no doubt, but maybe he was too eager. The older warrior could understand his sentiment about wanting strength, but this inclination could be extremely dangerous when dealing with personal magic, which required one to give of themselves to use. The desire for strength, which amongst more traditional disciplines was curbed by the limits of the body, could turn into a monster all it's own when dealing with magic. "I don't know you very well, but you seem like a good kid so I'm going to be brutally honest with you," Aren stated, his sun colored eyes unflinching in the slightest, "If I teach you reimancy, you're probably going to get yourself killed, or worse." The scythe-wielding akalak spoke with a sincere, yet regretful note to his voice. He knew, from experience, just how dangerous the desire for power could be. His own mother had fallen prey to that temptation, even knowing the dangers of the path she tread all too well. She had been ten times the mage her son could ever hope to become, but her need to become stronger and stronger ultimately destroyed her. Already at odds with the notion of teaching anybody anything, Aren knew that the master was responsible not just for what he taught his student, but for what they did with that knowledge. As such, he simply didn't seem inclined to take responsibility for foisting such a dangerous education on someone who didn't really know what they were asking for. "There are other ways to become stronger," The azure warrior offered, in a sympathetic tone of voice, placing an encouraging hand on the young man's shoulder. Aren truly hoped that the younger akalak desisted in this notion to learn reimancy, because it wouldn't have been a good idea to go looking for someone else to instruct him. Initiation could be an extremely hazardous process if done incorrectly, or by the wrong person.

[Khal'iah]

Once more, the young Akalak held his tongue and listened intently whilst Area spoke. The azure-skinned warrior before him attempted to articulate the potential dangers associated with the craft known as Reimancy. Apparently, there was a risk of death, and an even greater risk of a fate worse than death. Khal'iah honestly pondered whether or not he wished to learn such a dangerous craft, especially since his senior advised against it and even attempted to sway him into seeking alternative means of accumulating strength. However, despite all this, the confidence that was obviously apparent within Khal'iah did not waver even for an instant. In fact, all that the azure-skinned warrior had said contributed to the growth of the growth of the young warrior's confidence. "When I first picked up a sword, I willingly accepted all the risks that came with being a warrior." Khal'iah began, elevating his sword hand and placing it upon his senior's shoulder. His confidence bled through as a smile upon his countenance. "Picking up a sword has its own fair share of risks. Though they may be minimal compared to that of Reimancy, they are risks alone...however, proper instruction on how to handle the blade and proper guidance on how to wield it responsibly allow a warrior to harness that blade's strength while having an innate respect for the weapon's potential risks." Khal'iah was certain that his senior could see where the young Akalak's train of thought was leading up to, but nonetheless, he justified himself clearly. "Reimancy is no different in that regard. It is powerful. It is unlike anything I've ever seen before, so of course there are risks associated with its usage. It would be irresponsible of me as a warrior to not acknowledge the risks associated with this craft. Therefore, teach me how to use Reimancy properly and there would be no risk of my life being claimed...or that fate worse than death unfolding upon me." He let a brief silence punctuate his point before adding one more nugget of gold to his argument. "Wysar demands three things of us, his children the Akalak. Of these three, Discipline is one. To utilize this craft properly and to learn, one step at a time, how to responsibly grow in its use is discipline personified, is it not? Aren, I give you my word, not only as a warrior but as a child of Wysar, teach me this craft and I will wield it with Discipline!"

[Aren]

Aren had to give credit where credit was due: Khal'iah was both determined, and persuasive, in his own way. He lacked neither confidence, nor articulation in voicing said confidence, and he also had a point when it came to responsible instruction. A good teacher would be able to properly convey the dangers of any discipline, and in so doing prepare his students to face them. Unfortunately, Aren did not think himself equal to the task, and further did not believe his younger counterpart understood that the hazards of reimancy were a little more insidious than the typical risks associated with skills like swordsmanship and the like. Realizing that the fault for this was his, the older Akalak decided that perhaps it was best to simply enlighten him. Maybe once Khal'iah knew just what he was up against, he wouldn't be so eager to step into this world. "Reimancy," Aren began, eyeing his would-be pupil with cold precision, "Is the art of using your djed, your essence as it were, to power elemental transmutations." Producing an ethereal looking substance from his upturned palm, the warrior demonstrated the concept, transforming the spherical construct into a small vortex of whirling air. "The fuel for these transmutations, however, is NOT unlimited... and this is where the problems begin," Aren continued, allowing his spell to dissipate into nothingness. "Using too much of this fuel has a wide range of side effects including, but not limited to, death and disfigurement. Unfortunately, since hallucinations and the desire to cast more are some of the first symptoms that present themselves..." The Akalak explained, his dour expression indicating that he was neither exaggerating the matter, nor pausing for effect. "...Well, let's just say that once you start going down that road, it gets mighty steep, mighty fast," It was obvious that Aren was speaking from experience, if not his own, then that of someone close to him. "So, do you understand now, how that noble desire for strength is actually a liability in this case? Do you see that, were you to be taught this power, you would have to struggle against your own urge to overuse it?" The taller Akalak was clearly not asking these questions for his own benefit and he took a single, ominous step toward Khal'iah every time he uttered one. "You talk of discipline, but let me tell you something of discipline. I have spent a hundred years keeping my psychotic brother in check, never letting him run free, never weakening enough to allow him any sort of influence... and even so, there have been occasions where I have barely been able to contain my desire to continue casting when I shouldn't," Aren was revealing a very personal side of himself here, but he would have thought it a disservice if he did not try his best to dissuade his young kinsman from heading down this path. "That's what you're dealing with here, but if you're convinced you can handle it, if you tell me you are absolutely confident in your ability to resist..." The Akalak's gaze seemed to pierce flesh, muscle and bone, probing for any hint of uncertainty, of trepidation, "..then I suppose you're probably just going to find someone to teach you eventually, so it might as well be me." Despite his words, Aren had just the opposite intention if Khal'iah proved overly sure of himself. A good teacher was also responsible for choosing good students, after all, and he would never think of teaching reimancy to someone who didn't respect it's consequences enough to have doubts. This was a sure sign of a tragic end waiting to happen, and the cerulean Akalak refused to have that on his conscience.

[Khal'iah]

The young Akalak hearkened to every single word his senior spoke, his smile slowly fading as he witnessed in awe the spell he performed to make his point. To say the least, the young warrior was dumbfounded; but he still hung onto every word that was uttered by the azure-skinned warrior. Khal'iah listened...and pondered...and as Aren went on and on with his explanation about the dangers of Reimancy, the young Akalak understood. His dumbfounded expression washed away in that moment of "Aha!" and was replaced by the same, confident smile that populated his countenance only mere moments ago. "I...think I understand." he began, cautiously wording his thoughts so not to appear as some sort of overeager fool. "Reimancy is akin to fire. Fire is powerful, fire is a reaction, yet fire consumes that which it is ignited upon as fuel. Even though the fuel diminishes, and I'm certain that if it had a mind it would want to, the fire continues to consume." The youth placed a hand upon his chest, a visible signal of his confidence. "So I, being the fuel of Reimancy, must not allow myself to be consumed as wood within a hearth is consumed by fire!" He seemed quite pleased with his illustration of Reimancy and its effects. Khal'iah's eyes never left those of his senior which bore into his skull. There was not a shred of doubt, nor fear, only determination...and a newfound caution. The youth was silent, allowing his gaze to do most of the talking before verbally justifying himself in a complex paragraph of perfect Tukant. Put simply, its meaning was condenscend to: "I give you my word, as a son of Wysar, I can handle that which you have to teach me. I give you my word that I will not falter, I will not stumble, and I will not allow myself to be consumed. This I swear, upon my honor!"