Adversity breeds... and it's an ugly kid. [Self-Training]

[Aren]

21st of Summer: Late Afternoon Aren had been sitting in the living area of his little suite for several hours now. After a disastrous attempt to produce a blast of wind, he became frustrated and decided to rethink his training strategy. "I guess I'd better get back to the basics for awhile." The Akalak was begrudgingly forced to admit that, in his current state, he'd better start there. Erecting himself off the floor with renewed determination, he took a deep breath and once again produced a small amount of Res from his left hand. In his right hand was a loaf of bread he had been whittling down for the past two hours, periodically taking bites from it. Aren manipulated his translucent, blue Res into different shapes; spheres, rods, arcs, until he couldn't think of any more. Then, he extended the mass further and further, up to the point he felt it would escape his control. Now came the hard part: safely transmuting the Res into an element. Safely, being the operative word here. After a moment, he closed his eyes, concentrating on what was emanating from his left hand. The Res, it could be selectively transmuted; some of it could be made air, but not necessarily all of it. It was a technique designed to allow the wielder to maintain control after he had conjured the element he wanted. Aren had never been too good at it, but he figured now was as good a time as any to practice. He tried to visualize the layers on an onion (or onion analog), slowly peeling them back until he reached it's core. This was the only thing that would remain. Everything else he pictured being consumed in a swirling vortex . As the wannabe wind meister opened his eyes, he found the ball of Res inches above his palm, transmuted into air. But, to his surprise, he was somehow maintaining control over it. Excited, amazed, and overly proud of himself, the Akalak soon found that control rapidly destabilizing. Without much time to spare, Aren pointed and shot the mass of against as strong a surface as he could find, namely the stone walls of his room. As the pounding of his heart dulled, the Akalak suddenly became all too aware of his own fatigue. "Damn, I'm outta shape..." Despite this fact, he knew tomorrow he was going to have to go at it even harder. Today, however, it was time to rest. After what he had said to Crow, he wouldn't want to seem like a hypocrite, after all. Lazily dragging himself to the bedroom, Aren would have been all too content to let gravity do the work for him, but he doubted the sturdiness of these human beds. Having no desire to sleep on the floor today, of all days, he felt it best to simply sit and then lay down (as gently as akalankanly possible).

[Aren]

22nd of Summer: Early Morning Aren had gone to bed with what was left of a loaf of bread in his hand, but when he awoke, it was nowhere to be found. There was no evidence to suggest he might have crushed it in his sleep, and it wasn't on the floor or on the bed itself. He couldn't find it or it's crumbs anywhere, which seemed to suggest he might have devoured it while he slept. The alternative was that something else ate it right out of his hand, but the thought of that didn't quite sit right with him. "Forget about it..." Pushing the odd mystery from his mind, Aren figured it was time to get back to the task at hand. Proceeding over a few steps into his living room, he was fully focused on resuming his training. Unfortunately, after a conspicuous sound emanated from his stomach, he was forced to alter his plans just the slightest. "Maybe it's time for breakfast first," muttered Aren, remembering just how draining magic could be. Sitting down at the table, he reached into a bag that was propped up against one of the chairs, pulling out another loaf of bread. Looking at it, a mischievous smile erupted on his face. "Might as well practice while I'm at it," he convinced himself. Producing, from his right hand, an amount of Res roughly equivalent to the one from yesterday's training, the Akalak used the same visualization routine he had the day before. The only difference being that, this time, he wasn't going to bother closing his eyes. Figuring if he could only achieve this by virtue of leaving himself exposed to all manner of attack, it'd be all but useless. Again, he sparked the outer layers of the mass of Res that hovered above his palm. Managing to keep his emotions in check, Aren was pleased to see that his control similarly followed. "Not bad." Appreciating how far he had come from yesterday's little series of fiascoes, Aren felt himself finally getting up to snuff. Knowing that he needed to maintain control at all times, however, and not simply during moments when he was allowed complete focus, he knew that he was still far from being where he wanted to be. Aren promptly scarfed down the entirety of the loaf in a few bites, and now it was actually time to have breakfast, as as a little bread wasn't generally enough for the typical akalak stomach.

[Aren]

Early Afternoon Breakfast had been over too quickly, and Aren had spent the rest of the morning practicing his control over a tiny, layered sphere of Res. Now, it was about time for something different, however. He tired of practicing the same thing over and over again, and so Aren decided it was time to try something new. Seeing diminishing returns from any one specific training method, he knew he didn't have the stamina to simply keep bashing his head against the same wall over and over again, anyways. And so, while he was resting for a couple of hours, he used the time to try and remember, or try and come up with, some new type of exercise. He also went ahead and had some lunch while he was at it, knowing how important it was to keep up his strength during this kind of exertion. Break time was over, though, and the Akalak had something in mind for the afternoon's festivities. Erecting himself from his chair at the table, Aren took a deep, foreboding breath. The idea for what he was about to do had given him another idea, for something he knew he really shouldn't try. Nonetheless, he was definitively planning to give it a shot, sometime soon. First things first, however, as he realized that there were prerequisites for even attempting it. Aren assumed a familiar stance: arm outstretched, and open palm facing upward. But, this time, his other arm mirrored the gesture. "Let's go for a deuce," he muttered in Tukant, not entirely certain what it would involve. As the Akalak began simultaneously producing Res from two separate places at once, he immediately noticed something was different. The drain was unsurprisingly greater, but the focused required was greater as well. The concentration and will needed to simply maintain two separate masses of Res in different shapes was higher, so how hard was it going to be to maintain control once he tried to transmute their outer layers into an element? He didn't know, but he had to try. As Aren willed his Res into separate, but identical spheres, he began to transmute everything but their core into the element of wind. It wasn't as difficult as he'd feared, but neither was it as easy as he'd hoped. The task simply took more; more focus, more endurance, more willpower, more control. From now on, though, this would be his exercise of choice, one he'd better get damn good at. In order to achieve what he ultimately sought, this was a necessity. For today, however, he'd had enough. After a couple of encore performances for repetition's sake, Aren decided the day's lessons were concluded. He'd rest for awhile, have his dinner, then turn in. Gently, of course.

[Aren]

23rd of Summer: Mid-morning to Late Afternoon Aren had overslept by several hours. Figuring that the day before must have left him more drained than he had realized, he decided to go ahead and have his breakfast first thing in the morning today, knowing he was going to need the energy. After eating a pair of small fruits which had finally ripened, the Akalak downed yet another loaf of bread. It wasn't toasted like the last one, but it wasn't quite stale, either. As he finished his small meal, Aren spent a minute in silence, contemplating... something. He didn't even know what, as he gazed at the stone walls of his suite, sitting there in his chair. Soon enough, however, the idle moment had passed and he felt the desire to get back to work. Once again, the Akalak lifted himself from that familiar, comfortable position in order to do something that was neither. The days seemed to be getting longer now. He had been sitting in that chair for only just a few minutes, but it had it felt like hours. Shaking off that depressing feeling, Aren assumed the position; that same old, tired stance that was starting to get more familiar than his own shadow. Res began to emanate from his hands with relative effortlessness, especially when considering how much trouble he had just a few days ago. This was something that escaped his notice, however, as the Akalak concentrated on maintaining dual control of the swirling balls of air in his hands. As long as the core layers weren't transmuted, Aren could essentially manipulate an element to a certain extent, as opposed to shooting a mass of Res in a particular direction and hoping his aim and timing were accurate. With this in mind, he spent the entirety of the morning practicing and exploring various aspects of the technique, paying particular interest to the difference between single and multiple applications. After allowing a few idle hours for recuperation (and lunch), Aren soon got back to his training. This time, as was usual, he had thought up something new to try while he was busy doing nothing, kind of making him think that he should do nothing more often. Knowing that Res could come from any part of the body, he figured it was theoretically possible to have a nearly unlimited number of separate masses. The idea gave him several provoking thoughts, one of which was a desire to find out just how many he could handle at once. Breathing out a third mass of Res to compliment the usual two in his hands, Aren willed all three into spherical shapes. This third mass settled directly ahead of him, as he attempted to transmute all three into his preferred element. He layered them, of course, but the goal of the exercise wasn't simply to maintain control. Aren wanted to know just how many individual masses he could optimally manipulate, before some or all of them destabilized. It was a good question, and one he spent the rest of the afternoon attempting to answer. The answer, it seemed, was six. The more Res produced, the more taxing it was obviously going to be, but the problem was that Aren found his mind unsuited to keeping track of more than a half dozen individual masses. It was easy moving a group of six as one, but moving them all in different vectors was a separate matter altogether. Honestly, he didn't know if that was a general limitation, or a personal one, but he'd guess it was the latter. Unfortunately, his little experiment had left Aren dead tired, and so follow up would have to wait for another day. Barely possessing the strength to even think, the Akalak had to make a serious effort just to bring himself to eat something before crashing. He actually didn't think he'd make it to his bed before his mind shut off, but he thought he'd give it as good a try as anyone could.

[Aren]

24th of Summer: Late Morning to Early Evening Aren awoke, slumped over the foot of his bed, his knees pressed against the floor of his little room. It seemed he hadn't quite made it, and his poor legs had paid the price. How long had he been sleeping there, like that? Some of his extremities were sore, but he wasn't tired, so it could have been the entire night. Despite the position the Akalak woke in, however, he had slept surprisingly well. Straightening himself out, Aren released a massive yawn, while simultaneously realizing he must have slept for quite a while; his stomach was telling him that he had almost certainly missed breakfast, and at the same time suggesting that he had better not miss lunch, as well. Not one to ignore wise counsel, the Akalak immediately sat down in his familiar chair, at his familiar table, to eat his familiar food. The bread was starting to get stale now, but Aren didn't seem to mind it. Maybe it was those akalak taste buds, or maybe he was simply hungry. Either way, he eradicated the loaf, and some accompanying fruit, with extreme prejudice. Unsurprisingly, he was still hungry, but a look inside his bag told him that he'd better keep to a tight conservation policy. Otherwise, he might have to go out to get some food, and then he might not decide to come back. If this endeavor was a strictly personal matter, Aren might have abandoned it long ago, but that wasn't the case, and so he had to persevere. "Time to get back to work..." Unfortunately, after speeding through the miserly meal, the thought of resuming his training caused him physical discomfort. "...but I dun wanna!" Aren was simply tired; tired of practicing, tired of being hungry, tired of not seeing the sun, but most of all... he was tired of being tired. It was, quite frankly, something he wasn't accustomed to. That lack of energy, that sour disposition, it annoyed him. But, with a puff and a huff, the Akalak got to his feet. He had started whining, and that meant he had been sitting around for too long. This was something his parents had imparted on him: "Unless you're too tired to whine, you're not nearly tired enough." This was their personal philosophy when it came to training, and they enforced it with an iron fist. To them, complaining was tantamount to stating you still had plenty of energy left. Now, decades later, Aren still instinctively gets up when he realizes that he "still has plenty of energy left". Most of the time he doesn't even remember why. Looking at the bucket, which had recently moved from the table to the floor, the Akalak gave it a suspicious grin, "Not yet..." Though it had been nearly drained of water after a couple of dunks, Aren knew he was going to have use for it soon. For now, he was going to resume his typical training routine, with a small caveat. Or rather, a large one. It was weird, but everyday, during lunchtime, he figured out new things to attempt. Today was no different, as his mind burst with some potentially dangerous ideas. His mind also burst with some quite insane ideas -such as the development of what he termed the "Wind Assisted Fist Cannon", or WAFC, for short- but today, Aren was planning on exercising restraint. As much restraint as he was capable of, anyways, taking into consideration the fact that this isolation may have been getting to him a bit. "How big is too big, really?" he wondered, considering the scope of his experiment. "The room is too big, the bucket is too small, the table is..." It seemed he had found something that matched the parameters he had set in his mind; it was to be a thin sheet of Res about the surface area of his wooden table. After some pseudo-calculations and utterly useless safety preparations, Aren was ready to see just what he was capable of. This involved hitting himself with a blast of wind of his own making, which he intended to test it on the wall of his suite first, of course. Perhaps at the time, however, he didn't fully appreciate the differences between bone, flesh, muscle... and stone. Witnessing what he took to be a successful trial, Aren decided the product was ready for field testing. The wall had, after all, barely even noticed the impact. And so, fancying himself a wall of sorts, the Akalak determined the impact on him couldn't be all that much worse. Producing yet another table sized (a small table, but still) ball of Res, Aren transmuted almost the entirety of the mass into a swirling vortex of air, which hovered above the ground not five feet from his person. Now, all that remained was that he smack himself with it as hard as he possibly could. Although hesitant at the moment of truth, curiosity and determination eventually won out over caution and common sense, causing Aren to unflinchingly blast himself halfway into his bedroom. "Ow." After a few minutes on the floor, the Akalak managed to prop himself up to a sitting position, now fully appreciating the power wind had. Years ago, he had picked that particular element because he considered it the most harmless one, thinking that any backfire with it would be relatively benign. Aren no longer believed anything that had to do with Reimancy could always be considered harmless, but now he knew first hand just how right he was. Erecting himself up from the floor with a pained groan, he realized that dinnertime had passed him by, and he had to eat something now, regardless of what he felt like. After a much more brief meal than he generally had, Aren was all too glad to gently go into that good night, so to speak. Tomorrow would be another day, hopefully one less rife with his own idiocy.

[Aren]

25th of Summer: Noon to Evening Aren was starting to notice that every day took more out of him, regardless of how much he had rested the night before. At the same time, the Akalak wondered if perhaps the isolated setting he had chosen didn't play a part in the estimates of his fatigue. The mind could play such cruel tricks on the body, after all. Regardless, it was almost over, and so he resolved to push himself even harder. Dragging himself out of bed, Aren had the itinerary clear in his mind: review and practice, nothing crazy. Unfortunately, his stomach told him it was time for lunch, and he knew what that meant. As he ate, he'd have a ten to fifteen minute window during which his mind would be thinking of all kinds of wholly unwise experiments to prosecute. Finishing his meal with unusual haste, Aren shook his head in an attempt to dislodge any insane thoughts that may have strayed to the forefront of his brain, "No... today... I WILL follow the plan. The plan is good. The plan is my friend." It was a little difficult to ignore the desire to attempt his own ideas, but he already knew, from experience, that sometimes those ideas were leading him down a dangerous road. Spending a good deal of the afternoon "sticking to the plan", Aren reviewed what he had learned. After a few hours of repeating the same tedious exercises he had been practicing for the past four days, however, he simply couldn't take it anymore. The room, the silence, the way the shadows angled off the stone walls... he was losing it, and he knew it. The days, they seemed to go on forever, and he felt like he hadn't seen the sun in months. Despite all of this, Aren knew he had to soldier on. A few days from today, someone's life was going to be in his hands, and he'd just as soon not be responsible for a Knight's death. It would be his own damn fault if he died later, but he had damn well better not die during the initiation ritual. "Wait, didn't I agree to teach him? Horse manure." Well, perhaps if he died afterward it might be a little bit Aren's fault, but that wasn't the point. The point was that, for tomorrow and the rest of today, he was still on the clock. He was going to train, and he was going to do so diligently. No cut corners, no excuses. The Akalak's resolve more or less restored, he immediately got back to his "review". It was boring, annoying and tiresome, but it was going to get done. At least tomorrow, he knew, was doing to be a much more interesting day, if also a much more dangerous one. Sometime into the evening, Aren had his dinner, just before bed, as he had grown accustomed to in the past few days. Before he actually slept, though, there was something he needed to do. The bucket had to be filled for tomorrow, as it was almost certainly going see some emergency use. This meant that Aren was planning on doing something reckless, and he knew it. Alas, there was nothing to be done about it.

[Aren]

26th of Summer: Morning Aren had woken early, a good thing, as today was going to be the last day of his training, and he was certain to need all of it. This day... it wasn't going to be like any of the other days. Tomorrow he could rest, so today he was going to go all out. No taking it easy, and very little being cautious. Even before getting to breakfast, the Akalak thought a little warm up was in order. This warm up consisted of some very basic manipulation of a very small amount of his Res. It was just something to get him in the mood, so to speak. After he was satisfied, Aren went ahead and began that familiar (yet often omitted) daily activity. His bag was getting quite modest now, in terms of supplies, but he figured that since today he was going to need as much energy as possible, he might as well indulge himself. He'd finally be able to get the hell out of here tomorrow, so hoarding wasn't really necessary, anyway. And so, after having himself a meal twice the size of his average breakfast, Aren was now ready to formally begin the day's training. After a symbolic pat of his stomach, the Akalak, finally feeling half-way to satisfied, proceeded to do that which felt so natural by now. After assuming his stance, producing the Res he was going to use and shaping it into something that didn't look like a translucent pile of refuse, he finally transmuted it into a spherical mass of air which hovered above his hand. Today's theme was going to be speed and power. To that end, Aren produced another identical ball of air in his opposite hand, readying it for action. The goal here was to produce a barrage of small wind blasts, using alternating fire, with the intention of overwhelming an opponent with sheer numbers. Whether he'd even able to extract his Res fast enough to make such a thing feasible was in doubt, but that was the whole point of training: to find and test one's limits. Aren pointed his arm, like a cannon, at the stone wall of his suite. He propelled the ball of wind forward with as much speed as he could before it was out of his control. As it smashed against the hard surface, dispersing with a satisfying sound, his other arm mirrored the action. In the mean time, he was once again producing Res, as quickly as he could, so that he would have another volley ready by the time the second one hit. Unfortunately, the rate at which he could summon his Res was lacking, and what he was doing wouldn't truthfully qualify as a "barrage". Even as Aren tried to increase that rate, he knew that what he had achieved couldn't rightly be called a success. As various consecutive attempts produced no discernible improvements, he decided that enough was enough, and it was time to try something different. Staring at the bucket he had filled yesterday, the Akalak gave it a long, hard look, almost like it was a beautiful woman waiting to embrace him. Oddly enough, it was the same look he gave his bed at the end of every day. “Soon, baby, soon.” The time wasn’t quite right for it to come into play, however , and Aren pried his eyes away from it, returning his gaze to the familiar stone wall of his suite. While endeavoring to try and improve the speed at which he was able to call forth more of his Res (as part of a separate exercise), lunchtime snuck up on him and Aren realized it was time to stop, take a break, and eat.

[Aren]

Afternoon After another sizable meal, which came close to almost satisfying him, Aren immediately got up from his chair and set himself to work once more. At least the silence, the shadows... they seemed to bother him less today than they did yesterday. He didn't know if that was because he was getting used to the isolation, or simply because he could see it's end was nigh. Either way, he was grateful that he wasn't losing it even more. As Aren began producing Res, something which he finally noticed was getting much easier, he also realized that he was feeling slightly more tired than he was accustomed to, at this point in the day. He knew that he had woken earlier, done more, and rested less than he usually did, but this felt different somehow. Regardless of how, or what he was feeling, Aren wasn't about to let some vague sensation stop him when he was so close to the finish line. No, he'd push on, he'd persevere... right after he had himself a very brief rest, just in case. Once the Akalak was satisfied that maybe it might all have just been in his head, he regained his composure, not to mention his height. As he got up from his chair (again), he took up his previous position and once again began to emit Res from his body. Sometimes it came from his hands, sometimes his mouth, but he was perfectly capable of releasing it from anywhere. This time, he chose his eyes, simply for variety's sake. As the mass gathered in front of him, Aren pushed it back and forth without any guiding from his arms. This type of manipulation was actually more difficult, for some reason. He didn't exactly know why; it was probably more a mental component (like so many things in magic were), than a physical one, as it didn't really seem to strain his body as much as his concentration. Because this was the particular area (control and manipulation) he was most desperate to improve on, his training lingered here for a few hours. After awhile of this particular exercise, no amount of variations were making it any more interesting, and so Aren ceased it's practice. It was almost time for dinner, anyway, so the Akalak figured he could do something brief, and simple. The question, however, was what? He had something he wanted to try, of course, but that wasn't for right now. After a few minutes of agonizing boredom, Aren figured he might as well do a quick review, especially seeing as he was going to need to be as well versed as he could be, and soon. And so, he did what he usually did, an activity that was getting all too familiar. Almost fondly recalling some of his disastrous early experiments (not too long ago), he realized how hard what he did now, seemed then. It had gotten easier, certainly, but Reimancy was still a man in the mik'ta. It seemed like he had learned all he was going to learn for today, and after he ate, it was time to see just how far he had come from the person who had started this training almost one week ago.

[Aren]

Evening This time, Aren wasn't simply satisfied, he was stuffed. He had eaten enough food for two days in three meals. The food had tasted a little... odd, but that wasn’t exactly surprising, especially considering the time it had spent in a bag. A metallic taste to some old food didn’t really make his list of concerns, and so the Akalak moved on, to the main event of these proceedings: limit breaking. Now, the thing was, Aren wanted to find out just far he could take it. He knew it was dangerous, risky, foolhardy, idiotic, and kind of hypocritical, but such silly reasons weren’t going to deter him, no sirree. He was determined, if stupidly so, to at least give it the ol’ Akalak try. If a lack of an opposite sex wasn’t about to stop his people, he didn’t really see any reason why this should stop him. Aren figured it couldn’t be that bad, anyway. You go at it, until you can't anymore, right? How much more complicated than that could it be? Well, he hadn’t ever tried to do this, in fact, this was always one of things he always tried NOT to do, but today was different for some reason. There was something odd about the whole idea, though, especially the fact that he didn’t really seem to care much about the potential consequences. He wanted to try it, to see if how far he could go. And he was going to. Unfazed by this strange desire to do something that he wouldn’t have even dared to think of attempting, not too long ago, Aren prepared his mind and body for what would be his last experiment of the day, week, and possibly lifetime. Initiation rituals notwithstanding, of course. After a brief bout with nervousness, and a little eye rubbing, the Akalak decided it was time to proceed. First, he was going produce the absolutely biggest ball of Res he ever had, then he was going to transmute it, and the he was going to shoot it at something. This was the extent of his plan. Upon commencing the Djed extraction process, he began to think that this was probably one of the worst ideas he'd ever had. Once he had transmuted that massive ball, however, the Akalak realized it was definitely the worst idea he'd ever had. As he struggled to maintain his composure, not to mention his feet, a drop of sweat gleamed off his brow. The amount of Res he was handling at this particular junction was more than he ever had before, and it was taking it's toll on him. With a deep breath, Aren steeled his resolve and decided to proceed on to the final phase: destroying his home. The concentration required to maintain such a mass without immediate destabilization and/or possible backfiring was immense, but he was determined. Without much time to think, and wanting to achieve what he had set out to, he attempted to complete his experiment with a single forward thrust of his arms; the counter force unleashed by this massive blast of air promptly sitting the Akalak right on his ass. The roar, the power, the exhilaration... it was totally worth it.

[Aren]

As Aren simply lay there, staring at the stone ceiling of his home, he had what could be called an epiphany. It was, perhaps, of a philosophical nature, but perhaps it was simply of a practical nature. He saw what connected all the elements to each other. He saw what they were made of, what they thought. It felt almost as if they had been old friends he had simply forgotten. For a moment, the Akalak's lips curved upward, threatening to break out into a smile. Suddenly, however, he realized that they weren't old friends, but old enemies. He reminded himself that, if he ever turned his back on them, even for an instant, they'd cut him down without a moment's hesitation. Aren's heart started to beat faster as he looked up at that ceiling. He wanted to look away, he wanted to close his eyes... but he couldn't. Something inside him didn't let him. Slowly he got up, and once again assumed the position. It was almost as if his body had taken control of itself. His hands willed themselves to produce Res, and his eyes willed them to transmute the substance into an element. Aren cried out. He begged them to stop, but they wouldn't listen. Over and over, more Djed consumed each time, his limbs acted out his training of their own accord. Eventually they came to today, to his most recent experiment. His body simply refused to stop this insanity, and as the mass of Res he was creating became bigger and bigger, his eyes grew wider and wider. In the instant it seemed about ready to explode, all the Akalak he could was look away, and hope his pretty face wouldn't be too badly damaged. In that instant, however, his eyes opened, and he found himself still laying on that floor. "Just a..." he whispered, no louder than a breeze, though his sentence remained incomplete. Aren's neck and back were sore, leading him to believe that he had been on that cold floor for hours now. The Akalak concluded he must have fallen asleep after the blast knocked him to the ground. Unwilling to get up, he had lingered too long and the sweet call of sleep had proven too strong. "Why was I worried about my face?" Slowly, he came to his feet, but not for long. Before he had even realized what he was doing, he had slumped onto his bed and happily closed his eyes, hoping his dreams, this time around, were less disturbing.