1st of Spring, 514 AV
21st Bell
Aoren stood before the hearth in his apartment in Syliras. It had been a long day at work filling orders and fixing things around that shop, Stormhold Salves. The past winter had been one rife with sickness, more so than usual. He ran a hand through his hair thankful that he’d just returned from a visit to the Soothing Waters bathhouse. He had been in need of a good scrub and the warm waters had been, as the name of the establishment implied, soothing. The chill of winter’s nights was still clinging to the stones of Syliras. He could feel the cold beneath his feet on the stone floor of his apartment. For a moment, he just lost himself in the flames. There was something indescribably fascinating about staring into the depths of a fire, allowing oneself to drift into a stream of consciousness.
Taking a deep breath Aoren held a hand up in front of the fire. Centered on the palm a ball of gaseous blue Res gathered. Aoren carefully separated the Res into several distinct layers before willing the Res to attract the element of Fire. As expected the flames of the hearth resisted for a moment before the pull of the Res was just too strong to resist. Considering that the fire in the hearth was comparatively small against Aoren’s command over reimancy it was no surprise to him that the flames answered his call in short order. As soon as a few tongues of flame touched the outer layer of his Res the ball ignited into azure flames that cast the room into a cerulean hue. The young man waited until all of the flames in the hearth had been attracted to his hand before turning away from the hearth.
With due patience Aoren walked through his one room apartment toward his bed. He cast one last glance around his room before sitting on the edge of his bed and transmuting the inner layers of his Res into water. The resultant contact between the Fire and Water caused a pillar of steam to billow upward from his hand. It was warm but not uncomfortable. Throwing back the blanket upon his bed Aoren slid beneath the covers and lay back. With only the embers of the dying fire to keep him company, Aoren closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off to sleep…
…and whatever awaited him there.
It seemed as if he’d only closed his eyes for a brief moment before they opened and Aoren found himself standing amidst a sea of endless grass. The leaves of grass were hardly higher than his ankles but still, as the winds rolled over the never ending plane it was as if an ocean of green stretched onward into infinity before him. Aoren looked down at himself. He was dressed in plain cloth robes of white with what appeared to be a black bodysuit of unknown material. A pair of dark knee high boots adorned his feet. The clothing was comfortable and didn’t constrict his movement. The sunlight shining down from overhead almost seemed to be reflected off the surface of the white robes.
Turing his gaze toward the horizon Aoren caught sight of what he assumed to be the center of the endless field. A large hill atop which stood what appeared to be a monumental oak tree. Despite not knowing where he was or why he was there, Aoren didn’t feel in the least bit of danger. Reaching behind him he grasped the hood of the robe and pulled up over his head to shield his eyes from the sunlight. For some reason he felt bidden to go to the hill and the tree that stood there.
“Is this a dream? Or is it a vision?” Many times Aoren had been visited with visions from his the goddess of Sight before falling into slumber. This did not feel like one of those visions but he couldn’t be entirely certain. He felt as if he had his full faculties about him. He didn’t feel as if he were drifting through the immaculate realms that called to him whenever he tapped into the divine gift bestowed upon him by Avalis.
“I guess all I can do is follow my instincts and my instincts say go to the tree.” With that decision made he began making his way toward the hill and what answers lay there. To what questions? Aoren had no idea. Perhaps ones he had yet to ask?
21st Bell
Aoren stood before the hearth in his apartment in Syliras. It had been a long day at work filling orders and fixing things around that shop, Stormhold Salves. The past winter had been one rife with sickness, more so than usual. He ran a hand through his hair thankful that he’d just returned from a visit to the Soothing Waters bathhouse. He had been in need of a good scrub and the warm waters had been, as the name of the establishment implied, soothing. The chill of winter’s nights was still clinging to the stones of Syliras. He could feel the cold beneath his feet on the stone floor of his apartment. For a moment, he just lost himself in the flames. There was something indescribably fascinating about staring into the depths of a fire, allowing oneself to drift into a stream of consciousness.
Taking a deep breath Aoren held a hand up in front of the fire. Centered on the palm a ball of gaseous blue Res gathered. Aoren carefully separated the Res into several distinct layers before willing the Res to attract the element of Fire. As expected the flames of the hearth resisted for a moment before the pull of the Res was just too strong to resist. Considering that the fire in the hearth was comparatively small against Aoren’s command over reimancy it was no surprise to him that the flames answered his call in short order. As soon as a few tongues of flame touched the outer layer of his Res the ball ignited into azure flames that cast the room into a cerulean hue. The young man waited until all of the flames in the hearth had been attracted to his hand before turning away from the hearth.
With due patience Aoren walked through his one room apartment toward his bed. He cast one last glance around his room before sitting on the edge of his bed and transmuting the inner layers of his Res into water. The resultant contact between the Fire and Water caused a pillar of steam to billow upward from his hand. It was warm but not uncomfortable. Throwing back the blanket upon his bed Aoren slid beneath the covers and lay back. With only the embers of the dying fire to keep him company, Aoren closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off to sleep…
…and whatever awaited him there.
*******
It seemed as if he’d only closed his eyes for a brief moment before they opened and Aoren found himself standing amidst a sea of endless grass. The leaves of grass were hardly higher than his ankles but still, as the winds rolled over the never ending plane it was as if an ocean of green stretched onward into infinity before him. Aoren looked down at himself. He was dressed in plain cloth robes of white with what appeared to be a black bodysuit of unknown material. A pair of dark knee high boots adorned his feet. The clothing was comfortable and didn’t constrict his movement. The sunlight shining down from overhead almost seemed to be reflected off the surface of the white robes.
Turing his gaze toward the horizon Aoren caught sight of what he assumed to be the center of the endless field. A large hill atop which stood what appeared to be a monumental oak tree. Despite not knowing where he was or why he was there, Aoren didn’t feel in the least bit of danger. Reaching behind him he grasped the hood of the robe and pulled up over his head to shield his eyes from the sunlight. For some reason he felt bidden to go to the hill and the tree that stood there.
“Is this a dream? Or is it a vision?” Many times Aoren had been visited with visions from his the goddess of Sight before falling into slumber. This did not feel like one of those visions but he couldn’t be entirely certain. He felt as if he had his full faculties about him. He didn’t feel as if he were drifting through the immaculate realms that called to him whenever he tapped into the divine gift bestowed upon him by Avalis.
“I guess all I can do is follow my instincts and my instincts say go to the tree.” With that decision made he began making his way toward the hill and what answers lay there. To what questions? Aoren had no idea. Perhaps ones he had yet to ask?
