Solo Dra-Nelsa's Point

[Cantillion]

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12th of Fall, 514 AV "What is this?" Dra-Nelsa held a piece of paper in front of Cantillion's face for him to see, empty and blank. "Paper, Sera?" he answered, not entirely sure what his patron was getting at. "Are you asking me a question or answering mine?" she retorted harshly, eyes forming into an angry squint. Cantillion winced slightly at the glare. "Paper, Sera," he answered again, making sure not to raise his voice into a question again. When he had been accepted as a Mage-Squire, he was no less than ecstatic. His life was finally changing for the better, or so he believed. Sera Dra-Nelsa was quick to shatter those delusions. "And what's on the paper?" she asked. Cantillion hesitated to answer such an obvious question with an obvious answer. He had learned yesterday that her questions were intentionally misleading, usually to prove some point or another. She reminded him of her. "Nothing, Sera," he gambled. "There's nothing there...Sera," he quickly added, just barely catching himself before she reminded him. When they met for the first time yesterday, she laid out the most basic of rules for him. She made it clear that she was not a nice lady. Dra-Nelsa was a strict teacher, because, according to Dra-Nelsa, magic requires discipline. She reminded him of Mistress. Dra-Nelsa took the paper away from his face, setting it back down on her table."But the paper isn't nothing," she told him. "The paper is paper. Answer this," she prompted him, crossing her arms and looking down upon him like a god from atop a mountain. "What's between us, right now?" "Nothi..?" Cantillion answered, catching his inflection before he finished. "Nothing, Sera." "No," she answered. The way she said it made him feel not just wrong, but stupidly wrong. "There is air between us. Air is not nothing. Air allows you to live. Air allows you to think." Dra-Nelsa turned away from him, just for a moment, snatching up a small piece of charcoal and scribbling something quickly on the piece of paper she had set down just moments ago. When she finished, she held up the paper in front of him again, a single sentence written down in common. "Everything is something," she emphasized for him, her stupid, know-nothing Squire. "Does this make sense to you, Squire?" "Yes, Sera," he answered. And so appeared the secret lesson he had expected. Dra-Nelsa nodded, turning back to her table and deftly snatching up another piece of paper -- this one covered in strange markings -- and centering it on the table's surface. He realized here that despite her strictness and her demands for discipline, she was nothing like Mistress. His former captor would have punished him regardless of his answers by this point. Dra-Nelsa was actually teaching him something. "Your second lesson," she announced, extending slender arms out in front of her and snapping her fingers in unison. From nowhere, a speck of dust seemed to grow above the strange paper. Within seconds, the dust became a hole, the size of a marble, then the size of a bowl. Cantillion's eyes blended green and gold as he realized he was seeing magic occur right before his eyes. "That is what nothing looks like," she explained to him in a somber tone. "No light, and no heat. It is the Void. Stand there, and look," she demanded, noting Cantillion taking a slow step forward. He instantly stood still at her order. "When you think of nothing, you will think of this." As she finished, the hole leading into the Void began to shrink and collapse, until there was nothing left to ever suggest it was there to begin with. The paper with the markings on it now sat sad and blank on the table. "Will you teach me how to do that, Sera?" Cantillion asked in a daze. Dra-Nelsa couldn't help but smirk at his wonderment. "The question is, can you learn how, Squire?" Cantillion nodded, enthusiastic. "Yes, Sera!" He had expected the magic from the stories he knew. Bolts of lightning, spikes of ice, raining fire. Perhaps the type of magic that gave a man the strength to fight ten men at once without growing tired. But to him, this was more than he had hoped for. "Starting from tomorrow, I will be changing patrols," she spoke plainly, taking her seat at her table. "You will be outside my quarters at the 14th bell. You will remain here until the 20th bell." She paused to look him in the eyes, face entirely serious. "Until you have opened your first portal to the Void, there is nothing else for you to learn from me. If you cannot do this, you will not remain my Squire. Do you understand?" Cantillion nodded slowly, eyes green once more. "Yes, Sera."

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[Cantillion]

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13th of Fall, 514 AV "I've shown you the end result," Dra-Nelsa declared, as she slowly paced back and forth in front of him. "Your next task will be to recreate that result, and open a portal to the Void." She snapped her head towards him and stopped walking, catching him somewhat by surprise. "Do you know what Djed is?" "No, Sera," Cantillion sighed. She had asked him what he knew about creating magic when they first met, and he had been forced to admit that he knew nothing. "Good," she confirmed with a nod. "If you had known, it probably would have been wrong, and then you'd have to unlearn it. Fresh is good," she said with a small yawn. Apparently the changes in her schedule that she made to accommodate his education left less time for sleep. "What was your first lesson, Squire?" she barked at him. Cantillion was startled, but he was getting used to her style. "Everything is something, Sera," he answered back. "Good memory," Dra-Nelsa nodded, picking up a piece of paper and a charcoal stick from her table. "Everything is something, and everything is fundamentally made of Djed. It's the stuff of the body. It's the stuff of the soul. It defines everything. This charcoal's Djed," she explained, holding out the stick for Cantillion to take. "Is what makes it charcoal. Its texture, its shape, its color, can all be attributed to its Djed. Likewise for this paper," she added, handing Cantillion the sheet as well. Her hands now empty, she rapped a knuckle twice on the surface of her table. "You will write down the three laws of Djed," she commanded, resuming her pacing. Cantillion nodded and stepped up to the table, hunching over slightly to write. Dra-Nelsa's hand came down on top of his head, gripping his skull tightly with her long fingers as he gasped at the sudden assault. "You do not nod to an order from your superiors, Squire," she roared in his ear. "I'm sorry, Sera!" he panicked, swallowing air. He didn't even dare to move his head, let alone shift his gaze, even after she released him. Only when she began pacing and speaking normally did he allow his eyes to drop down to the paper. His heart was beating what felt like a thousand times a second, but his hands weren't shaking. His was a body well-trained to function in a state of fear. "The first law of Djed, is that it cannot be made or unmade," she lectured him. "Only changed, moved, or manipulated. Do you understand, Squire?" Cantillion scribbled out her words as quickly as he could manage. Writing was not exactly a part of his everyday life, but he had learned well enough. "Yes, Sera." "The second law of Djed, is that not all Djed is equal," she went on. "The Djed of a piece of paper is simple and weak. The Djed of a stick of charcoal can affect the paper, and change its surface. The charcoal is subject to the whims of your own Djed." Dra-Nelsa stopped on the other side of the table, placing a strong hand down over the paper. "The difference between you, and I, and the paper, and the charcoal, is strength of will. Willpower," she explained, now mere inches from his face. She couldn't help but notice his green eyes shimmer, as if taking on a slightly deeper hue. Cantillion couldn't help but notice how ashen her complexion was, her eyes dark brown. "Willpower can change Djed, as naturally as water puts out a fire. Do you understand, Squire?" she asked again, removing her hand from the paper and allowing him to finish writing. After a moment, he answered her again. "Yes, Sera." "The third law of Djed, is arguably the most important of the three," Dra-Nelsa continued, as Cantillion stayed poised to write it down. "It is more than just a rule; it is a warning, and a constant reminder of what happens when you fail to pay attention," she yelled, startling him from his focus. A black hole the size of his fist had opened not two feet in front of his face. Instincts kicked in and he stumbled backwards, nearly falling to the ground. The paper, no longer held in place by his hand, was whisked away into the Void, and the portal that took it closed shortly after. "Some things cannot be undone," she told her idiot Squire. "Portals can be closed, if one knows the way. But the things they take are not easily regained." Cantillion reoriented himself, setting the charcoal stick back on his patron's table, and then standing straight once more. "Do you understand, Squire?" "Yes, Sera." he breathed in relief. "Then tell me the laws, if you understand so well," Dra-Nelsa ordered. "Djed cannot be made or unmade, only changed, Sera," he answered quickly from memory. "Not all Djed is equal, Sera. The difference is willpower, Sera. Some things cannot be undone, Sera." She stood behind him, squinting. "What is my full title, Squire?" Cantillion blinked. She had mentioned it before. When they first met just a couple days ago. But she only mentioned it once. What it had to do with Djed didn't matter; she asked him a question and if he didn't answer it correctly, Mistress would punish him. No, that wasn't right. "Sergeant Mage-Knight Dra-Nelsa, Green Company...3rd Regiment...Silver Quadron...Sera." Dra-Nelsa clapped him lightly on the shoulders with a closed-lip chuckle. "Good memory," she praised him. At least, that was the closest thing to praise he had received from his patron since they met. "Sit on the floor. Let's begin." "Yes, Sera."

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[Cantillion]

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26th of Fall, 514 AV Cantillion sat on the floor, legs crossed and arms stretched out ahead of him. His index fingers pointed out to some place ahead of him, as if they might touch if his fingers were longer than they were. He breathed slowly, eyes focused on that imaginary place he pointed towards. Day after day, six hours at a time, this is what he did. It was not enjoyable. There were no instructions, no lessons. Dra-Nelsa sat at her table, waiting for him to finish, just as she did every night. The smell of some kind of stew played with his nostrils -- Dra-Nelsa's dinner. The sound of a quill or a brush or a stick of charcoal doing its task in her hands, as she focused on her own devices. The dim candlelights casting shadows around a normally brightened room, kept only half-lit through her efforts. Just dark enough to make it difficult to see. Just bright enough to not be dark. Knights walk in plate before they run in leather, she had told him at the start. Open a portal in spite of distractions, and you'll always know how. But it was no use to him, really. He had already guessed at the lesson. Ignore the distractions, focus on something in your mind. Make your own distraction. Cantillion's mind had nothing less distracting to offer. Just memories of a time he didn't want to remember. Memories of a time he couldn't forget. The smell wasn't helping. It reminded him of cooking meat, his captors only a short ways away. She would feed him later, after her sons were sleeping. The sound wasn't helping. It reminded him of scraping pages in crude storybooks of hunting and death and violence. She would make him read them every night for her sons. The light wasn't helping. It reminded him of the place he had no choice but to call "home". She would hold his head still with clawed hands while he sat there and there was nothing he could do. Then his mind would frighten itself back into reality. One distraction leading to the other, back and forth and back and forth until his time was up and Dra-Nelsa would stand behind him, as she did now. "We're done for tonight, Squire. Arms down," she commanded, and he readily obliged, arms exhausted. "Yes, Sera," he sighed, standing up slowly with sore arms and sleepy legs. Cantillion knew he was not done. He knew what awaited him tomorrow. He wondered if anything would change then. "What are you afraid of?" Dra-Nelsa asked. It wasn't a random question, or a reprimand, despite the look Cantillion saw on her face, but genuine curiosity. "Your past?" she guessed, and though he restrained his expression, his eyes lit up like emerald stars in response. "Y-Yes, Sera." "You're not the first Squire with a rotten life," she remarked offhand, ushering him out of her quarters. "You won't be the last, either. First lesson, Squire?" "Everything is something, Sera," he repeated halfheartedly, walking out ahead of her. "And the second lesson?" He stopped, thinking back. She often asked him to repeat the laws of Djed. More often, she asked him to repeat the first lesson. Never the second lesson, though. "You showed me what the Void looked like, Sera." "No," she denied him. It might have been his imagination, but she didn't seem quite as harsh as she normally was when correcting him. "I showed you how to take something, and turn it into nothing," she explained, heading off for her patrol duties without giving him a second glance. "That's the second lesson, Squire." "Yes, Sera."

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[Cantillion]

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29th of Fall, 514 AV Three days he spent wondering how he could make a memory disappear. It consumed his thoughts, leaving little room for anything else. He wished something would change in this room, but every day it looked the same. He was certain Dra-Nelsa made sure each of their sessions felt identical. His arms were already sore and tired, but he held them out as she had instructed, pointing to that far off place he couldn't reach yet. Cantillion's stomach lurched. He could feel it, hear it. His patron must have heard it as well, though she didn't act on it. It was his own fault for forgetting to eat his past two meals. Mistress would punish him for that later. No, that's not right, he thought, but it was too late. "Isn't it, though?" she asked gingerly, a feral smile on her face. "If you don't eat, you'll waste away. And then, what will I have to look at? You don't want to die, do you?" His breath came quicker, his heart racing, eyes blinking. Black wings expanded, arching over him, blocking his vision and sealing all hope for escape. His arms were extended, fingers pointing to something beyond his vision, but he didn't know why. "There's something in your eyes that Mistress wants to see," she smiled, clawed hands reaching for his face, fur the tone of blood. One hand took his chin, the other reached for his eyelids, and her face came closer. "Yes, that's what I love to see in you," she whispered. Cantillion couldn't see it but he knew she could. He had never felt more afraid. "This fantastic color," she breathed, her words hitting his open mouth like steam. He had nowhere to look but her eyes, pitch black and unnerving. In his terror, they reminded him of something. His arms were extended, fingers pointing to something beyond his vision, and he remembered why. Her eyes weren't black. They were empty. "It's so perfectly...Cantillion." "YES!" Dra-Nelsa roared. Cantillion gasped for air, and he suddenly remembered where he was. He couldn't be certain, but he swore he saw a speck of something disappear in front of him, at the place he couldn't reach. The pain in his arms overwhelmed him, and he let them drop, laying back on the floor and uncrossing his legs. His patron towered over him, looking down. Everything was blurry, and he couldn't be sure if she was smiling or scowling. After a few blinks, he wiped the tears from his eyes. She wasn't smiling. But she wasn't scowling, either. "Sit up, Squire." "Yes...Sera," he struggled, using the leg of her table as a support. She handed him a bowl; his nose told him it was the stew he had smelled all these past days, and his stomach grumbled, demanding to be fed. "You probably won't like it, but it's food," she warned him, but he was ready to eat anything at this point. It smelled like some kind of stew, but had the consistency of mushy soup. He had had worse before. "Tell me, Squire," she asked him, after he had gotten a few spoonfuls of the stuff in him. "How did it feel?" Cantillion took a deep breath, thinking back to the moment. How did it feel? "Terrifying, Sera," he answered, uncertain. "Satisfying," he added, looking up to meet her stoic gaze. "Sera." "Remember that feeling," she commanded him. "Take the rest of the evening to rest. From this point forward, you'll be learning more than just Voiding. Training will be varied. It will not be easier. You will not practice Voiding beyond my supervision. Are we clear, Squire?" Cantillion steadied himself with a hand on the ground and stood up straight. "Yes, Sera," he smiled.

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[Katelyn Marks]

Due Rewards

“After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.”

― Philip Pullman

Cantillion

Skill	EXP
Socialization	5
Observation	5
Meditation	2
Voiding	2

Lores

➢ Dra-Nelsa: A Strict Teacher
➢ Dra-Nelsa's Lesson: Everything is Something
➢ Voiding: The Appearance of a Portal
➢ Voiding: Creating a Portal
➢ Djed: The Essence of Everything
➢ The Three Laws of Djed
➢ First Law: Djed Cannot be Destroyed or Created
➢ Second Law: Not All Djed is Equal
➢ Third Law: Some Things Cannot be Undone

Shield Points: +1 for patron thread, +4 for training

Comments

Note :

I enjoyed this thread a lot, good job! It kept my attention and was easy to read, so keep up the good work. I really liked how it took Cantillion a while to even create that tiny speck of a portal into the Void. Keep up the excellent learning curve!

If you have any concerns about your grade please feel free to message me.