39th Day of Fall
20th Bell
20th Bell
He learned that, trite as it sounded, the key to succeeding was to stop trying. It was almost like... falling asleep. If you concentrated on it, tried hard to consciously do something that only you(r) unconscious would accomplish, you'd just lie there with your eyes open. But once you let go of that objective, and lost that grip on reality...
"Meditation is key to a new practitioner's ability to conjure shields. While a somewhat passive discipline, Shielding does require a lot of focus in early stages; willing djed from the hidden corners of the body takes effort, and unlike many other magicks, Shielding needs that djed summoned and formed into one, solid barrier.
The first step is location. Somewhere tranquility and calm can be found. Lack of noise is, of course, most preferably, so there are fewer distractions. Then close your eyes, and find a place of peace.
That is a somewhat simplistic description, so I will clarify: anyone, even those born and raised amid turmoil, have moments of peace. Memories of clarity and tranquility, even if they are but ticks. Find that memory in your mind. See it, recapture it with every detail. Breath slowly and easily, taking each mouthful deep down and releasing it slowly through your nose.
Soon you will find you are becoming more sensitive, but now the true purpose of [i]focus comes into effect. Do not try to latch onto the feeling like something physical! Allow your heart's beating to lower. Imagine yourself floating on water. That feeling of weightlessness, as though your mind was drifting from the body?
That is your aim, and your destination, for in that place is djed. Immaterial and yet essential, it is that which drives all life, from crawling worms to the turns of seasons... and it cannot be so easily accessed as a man pumping a well."[/i]
The first step is location. Somewhere tranquility and calm can be found. Lack of noise is, of course, most preferably, so there are fewer distractions. Then close your eyes, and find a place of peace.
That is a somewhat simplistic description, so I will clarify: anyone, even those born and raised amid turmoil, have moments of peace. Memories of clarity and tranquility, even if they are but ticks. Find that memory in your mind. See it, recapture it with every detail. Breath slowly and easily, taking each mouthful deep down and releasing it slowly through your nose.
Soon you will find you are becoming more sensitive, but now the true purpose of [i]focus comes into effect. Do not try to latch onto the feeling like something physical! Allow your heart's beating to lower. Imagine yourself floating on water. That feeling of weightlessness, as though your mind was drifting from the body?
That is your aim, and your destination, for in that place is djed. Immaterial and yet essential, it is that which drives all life, from crawling worms to the turns of seasons... and it cannot be so easily accessed as a man pumping a well."[/i]
He'd devoured the words over and over again that day, presenting a strange sight during the caravan's breaks: the dusky and steel-festooned warrior, hunkered down on Mrrko's back chewing an apple from one hand, eyes never wavering from the tome in the other.
It seemed simple, though, when it was read in print. By the time camp was struck again and night fell, he was a feverish little (well, not little) bundle of Myrian nerves aching to put the dull, musty theory into exciting practice.
"Petching... shyke!"
For all the good it was doing him, unfortunately.
He sighed and lowered his hand, previously held palm out towards that mocking, intractable fucking lantern. It's light still filled their tent, not dimmed or dented even a little by... ah, who was he kidding? By nothing at all.
"The book said that even rank novices like me should be able to at least block light," Razkar said, growling his annoyance at the offending hand, back in the lap of his crossed legs, "But me? Huh. As much wyrd in my hands as..."
He left the sentence unfinished, perhaps because he couldn't think of the right metaphor, more likely because he knew he was full of shyke. Razkar knew he had wyrd in him; his training with The Flux proved that.
Djed was life, and life as djed; the eternal and unbreakable circle of the world. But manipulating it... Goddess... even when he'd first picked up a blade, that first morning when he was barely even knee tall, and the hunk of sharpened steel had seemed an alien an artifact as a clockwork timekeeper to a Yukman, he had not felt so...
"No." He said, jaw setting, taking strength from his own damn stubbornness and... someone else. "That is easy, to make despair. No..."
Razkar turned a little, glancing over his shoulder at Edreina, peeking over the edge of "The Basics Of Shielding" with her wide blue eyes. Goddess... just the sight of her withered his self-loathing depression to a bitter mote of... and then it was gone.
"We worked too hard..."
Razkar straightened his posture and looked at the lantern. He closed his eyes... the sky of Taloba... blue and bright and rare through the endless canopy... he remembered sitting under a hole in it staring up on a balmy day and watching clouds and birds drift and pinwheel across the azure...
The Myrian felt his mind... disconnect. Was this his soul? Or was it his djed? He could... feel... muscles and strength beyond and under his own... so strange, was this what-
Stop it. Stop trying to understand and control all, boy. Just let it feel you...
Slowly, with his eyes still closed, the Myrian raised his hand... and imagined invisible veins and arteries flowing with sparkling incandescence... leading up his arms from his torso... to the palm of his hand...
Focus. See what you wish to create. Nurture and bring it to life as you would a work of art...
... and imagined a shied clear and purest glass, unknowable to the eye... but slowly blocking the lantern from their half of the tent...