Solo A Second Attempt

[Keene Ward]

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The forty-second day of fall, 514 A.V.

Sore and weary from the day's work before, Keene had risen a bit later than he'd intended. The climb to the plateau was slightly faster, as having both climbed and descended the tentative "path" the day before gave him a bit of a better idea where to put his feet and how to avoid skidding down the face of the moutain. It took him about a bell to reach the top, much faster than before but still more than enough for his skin to take on the sticky sheen of sweat that had become like a second skin to him. Thankful for the clothes he had purchased from the merchant ship earlier in the fall, he unstrung the lace keeping the deep "v" of his tunic together. The release allowed more of his skin to be exposed to the heavy air of his surroundings, giving him a slight release from some of the heat that plagued him. Over all, he had grown more comfortable to baking in his own sweat, but it didn't change the fact he preferred to be cooler than sweltering. The sandals, while freeing on his feet, were a bit more difficult to climb in, and it had required several stops to remove rocks that sneaked their way between the leather sole and the bottom of his feet. The pants, however, were the greatest relief. They were loose around his thighs, allowing for air to pass through them as he moved, and the lack of cover of his calves meant less of an oven effect.

At the top of the ridge, Keene studied the twig of a tree he had planted earlier. Having been tasked with watering, he had brought his flask of water along with him to lower the amount of res needed to accomplish the task. After having the way back to the city explained to him by his master, Keene was confident he could make his way back to the city to gather more water. His visit to the synchrography gave him a means to gain resources as well as the engraved leather vambrace the authority through which to gain it. The realm of shielding had been opened to him, and the plateau was a good a place as any to practice his exploration of it. From the level vantage point, he had the ability to detect those approaching from any side by way of tumbling rock or panting breath. Of course, were there some sort of creature or villain traveling up the slope with stealthy step, Keene supposed he wouldn't stand much of a chance if there were to be a surprise attack. On the other hand, he wouldn't be able to handle a surprise attack anyway. His res came to him much quicker than it had when he had first started, but it was by no means a reflexive solution.

Uncapping the flask, Keene took a few swigs, leaving the cap removed as he slowly exhaled res from him mouth. The silvery blue gas slowly traveled from his lips to a spot about the same height above the tree as the day previous. Holding the flask up, Keene willed the res to pull the water from within it, spreading it thin as the strands of liquids eased out of the lip of the flask and disappeared into the heavy air. Soon, the cloud formed, its color shifting from a soft white to a darker grey before water began to fall. Using his left hand that wasn't holding the flask to supply water that didn't require transmutation, Keene made a gentle pushing and pulling motion to slowly swirl the cloud, willing the res within to pull in the moisture of the air around it as well as the water from the flask. Having already done a similar spell before, Keene had decided his previous cloud was far too res costly. With the added draw of his water flask, he was able to effectively cut the amount of res he used in half, having only to replenish the res within the cloud used to attract the liquid.

After about four chimes, he let the cloud fade away, his flask entirely empty. The ground around the tree had been well saturated, and he was content to leave it as such. Recapping the water flask, he strapped it back onto his belt before ambling over to about the center of the plateau. Easing himself down to a seated position, he pulled a few almonds from his pocket and tossed them into his mouth, methodically crunching down upon them as he focused his attention inward. He could feel his djed, the ever shifting essence of his being, and he willed it forward. As was customary for any attempt he made at shielding, nothing happened. The more aggressive, active nature of res made manipulating his djed in any other way a definite struggle. Having already spent a fair amount of time maintaining the cloud spell, he wasn't at his top form. However, shielding wasn't nearly as taxing on his body as reimancy. In fact, when his djed was exhausted, he simply couldn't cast the magic any more, unlike the ease of overgiving that came with throwing spikes of ice or freezing buckets of water.

Letting his focus loosen some to take in the surrounding area, the sensation of the earth below him and the sky around him, Keene allowed his breathing to relax. Where reimancy required his focus and control, shielding had a more peaceful lilt. It was flowing, passive, and gentle, an almost naturally occurring phenomenon that, while elusive, felt much more natural than the excretion of res. The feeling, however, was alien, and it made little difference whether it seemed as something he could do or not do. The fact remained it was aggravatingly difficult to get a shield to appear, let alone do anything with it. Atziri had told him that he was expected to eventually shield the entrance to their cave, but the size of the mouth was far greater than anything he could create. However, it meant that shields were far more than the shimmering flashes he was able to put forth. The citadel's shields were a prime example of what could be accomplished by a skilled shielder.

Letting his mind move towards the palms of his hands, he felt his djed shifting and moving as it always did, writing and rewriting itself with each passing tick. Feeling his breathing begin to quicken, Keene took a few moments to let it calm again. Stillness of body and mind had never been his forte; thoughts rushed into and out of his head at quick serial progression. To let the thoughts quiet, hushing them and quieting his body, was a task that was in and of itself a difficult one. With his muscles relaxed and his mind primarily focused on the darkness that dwelled behind closed lids, Keene once more let the sensation of his djed seep into his nerves of his palms. Slowly, he let the sensation rise, the tingling of his fingertips the only signal that change was happening at all. Letting his eyes open, he stared down at the thin, uneven layer of opalescent sheen that rested between his hands. It was similar to a broken fragment of a plate or vase, angular and rigid at it's edges. Gazing down at the swirling shine of the fragment, Keene moved his hand to draw it closer to him. With a slight flash, the shield dissipated into the air, leaving behind no evidence of its being.

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[Keene Ward]

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Staring down at the empty space the shield had once occupied, Keene frowned at his dusty fingers. While he felt as though his repeated attempts to put fourth his djed were gradually gaining him an understanding of the nature of his new magic, the lack of specifics was giving him a rough time. He had been raised by a reimancer with the benefit of her instruction. All subjects he had attempted to learn outside of her influence had been done so under the tutelage of silent letters and musty tomes. The magic currently at the top of his mind, however was different than the others in the fact that there was no instruction given. While he didn't doubt Atziri would give him guidance should he ask for it, he figured she had a reason for giving him little else than the act of initiation. While it was a matter of pride, in a sense, Keene had been raised on Mella's constant tasks and tests; some had been spoken while others implied. Passing or failing of such things was usually subjective, but there had almost always been rules of engagement in place. If information was not given at the beginning, it was information to be gained through the effort of the learner. Often, things were best remembered through trial and error rather than vicarious instruction.

Still, he had no preface to base conjectures off of. He assumed shielding to be a passive sort of magic from his personal experience, but it was potentially a false sense meant to discourage those wishing to progress. Either was possible, and the myriad possibilities aggravated him. Sticking his hand into his pocket to pull out several more almonds, he dropped them into his mouth, his grey eyes staring with a blank fix on the distant rise and fall of the hills. On one hand, he could test the limits of the magic in an attempt to determine just how he should go about it; discover what it was capable of, it's nature, when it was most appropriate and useful to practice it. On the other hand, he felt as though he had devised a safe and practical enough way from him to expand upon. The strange, jagged shape had certainly been an improvement, though towards what end, he couldn't be certain.

He found it odd that while he could see the own manifestation of his djed, the shields of others were invisible to him. Back in the courtyard when he'd met with his first - as he now assumed it to be - shield, it had been entirely unnoticeable. There had been a slight flash of color, but beyond that the barrier had remained solid and immovable. In the lower levels of the Gug Anjdak where he had gone to carry out the work request, the nuit there had pawed at the air like a weaver. Keene figured it had been an advanced form of shielding - though it was possible it was a different form of unknown magic, for the sake of his pondering, he assumed it to be the same -, which meant that the creation of another shield was also invisible to anyone but the caster. He supposed it made sense. While res could been seen by other people, it was no longer djed; it was a substance created from djed that was compatible enough with it to be redrawn into it. His actual djed, however, was himself; it was he and he it. The physical manifestation of something like that outside of what it was intended to be seemed a logical enough structure that could only be seen by the eyes of the caster. Without some form of detecting the djed of another - of which Keene had little knowledge of anything that might do so -, the djed was still djed.

Feeling more content with the idea of shielding to a degree, Keene decided the best course of action was to simply continue on his own. His thoughts having moved to the synchrography request, the promise of a lesson in shielding presented itself as part of the reward for his completion of the task. Having access and the ability to head back to the citadel, he decided it would be a smart thing to stop by the office and inquire as to whether the wizard was prepared to give him a lesson. Glancing up at the sky, he could tell by the position of the sun that it wasn't worth the trip to the city, as he'd get there at about sundown and be forced to either make the trip back in the dark or sleep in the Quarters. Just the thought of the blight of a mattress waiting for him within the chilly confines of the stone broom cupboards was enough to put an end to his musings regarding leaving for the night. Instead, he made a point to visit the office the next chance he was in the citadel. He was fairly certain the master wizard wouldn't mind him collecting his reward so late, as the undead race progressed through time at a different pace than their Pulser counterparts.

Returning his attention to his hands, Keene stared down at them, tracing the lines of the creases in his palms with a steady eye. He could visualize the shimmering shard of a shield clearly in his mind. It had held much longer than his past attempts, and though it had shattered the moment he attempted to move it, he was confident he could produce the same effect again. Rolling his shoulders to remove some of the tension, Keene let his back slouch slightly, his center of gravity pulling his chest downwards. His breath moved in and out of his lungs at an easy pace, the fatigue from his previous reminancy taking a back seat to his current exercise to remove as much stress from his system as possible. In the stillness of his mind, images and words flashed through, their draw attempting to break his concentration. Some were more tempting trails to follow than others. Dour frowns, cheery dark haired laughter, silver eyes on purple skin all tugged at his consciousness. They were distracting, and though he did his best to clear his mind, many still remained, bouncing about the reasonably more empty space of his inner mind.

Even with the quieter tone of his stream of consciousness, Keene still felt his mind more empty than usual. The calm that came with the lowered noise in his skull gave him an increased sense about his body and the djed that was both part of and within it. He found the tingling sensation in his palms faster than before, and though his breathing had grown more rapid, he continued on, choosing to allow the most natural course to take place. The more he tried to control himself, the more he seemed to fail - though his attempt to clear his mind was a bit of a paradox he disregarded as necessity to allow his body the freedom it seemed to require to manifest his djed outside the typical realm of his body. Letting his eyes remain on his hands, he watched as the tingling intensified, a small shimmering pallor slowly beginning to form. After a few moments, the substance seemed to solidify, the opalescent iridescence glinting against the late afternoon sun's rays. Keeping himself from doing anything other than to continue sitting in his relaxed stance, he peered down at the glowing shard of a shield. Its formation had seemed to finish, a jagged shape with sharp angles at every side. It seemed much more like a strange piece of glass than anything else.

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[Keene Ward]

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As he continued to stare at the glistening fragment in his hands, he could feel it start to slip away. Before, the dissipation of his manifested djed was nearly instantaneous, seemingly giving the shield a natural time limit. Small tremors across the uneven surface of the fragment, however, had started to present themselves as the sheen began to fade. Unsure how to handle the situation, Keene attempted to strengthen the would-be barrier, opening up the limitations of his hands to allow his djed to trickle from his palms in shimmering flakes, similar to the appearance of scales. It was the first time he'd seen the individual pieces of what composed his shield, and as the flecks dissolved into the air along with his initial glistening spell, Keene's frown had lightened some. The shimmering flecks that he had produced the second time gave him a large hint as to how the initial structure was being formed and why the edges appeared to be so jagged. The shield itself was a compositional structure made up of many smaller scale like entities. Approaching the problem as one of construction rather than projection seemed to be the better option the more he thought about it.

Initially, he had believed the shield to be a projected manifestation of djed, that somehow through the process of training, one could increase one's physical expression of djed into large scale barriers. With the epiphany given by the silverish flakes that had sloughed from his skin in his attempt to supplement the shield, Keene realized he'd been approaching the magic from too similar a standpoint as reimancy. When res was produced, the more res one made initially was merely more changes to transmute an element or attract that which was already in the environment. Shielding, however, appeared to be a magic of construction rather than change. Viewing it a shield as something like a composite board of little pieces of wood bound together to create a larger, stronger - hopefully more so than the simile - object, Keene felt as though his next attempt would be much more successful. His confidence, however, was ill placed.

While he had seemingly stumbled upon what was one of perhaps a hundred or more of the secrets of shielding, Keene still had the issue of production and control. The flecks were not res, and they did not behave as such. In the first place, they were difficult to produce. He found that the more effort he exerted to create them, the lower his chances and fewer bits of silver were produced. Growing agitated after a handful of chimes sitting with nothing happening, Keene rubbed his hands together in an attempt to give his limbs a small break from holding still. When he had taken his hands apart, there was a thin opalescent layer across the palms of both hands. It only lasted for a few ticks before fadding away, but if gave Keene the impression that, yet again, he'd been approaching shielding from too close a reimancer's view. The stillness also seemed to be a factor less inclined to the nature of shielding. He pondered the possibility of gestures, wondering if the actions would help his mind to willfully manifest the iridescent flakes that he could use to craft his barrier.

Pulling both hands up into the air, letting his elbows rest on the softer parts of his knees, Keene attempted the magic once more. He let his hands drift back and fourth, as if he were doing a strange sort of swaying dance with just his hands. He kept his breathing steady, but as the telltale quickening of his breath presented itself, he embraced it. Slowly, the little flecks of silver began to spark from his hands, leaving a shimmering trail behind them. With each pass, the shimmer became more and more solid, taking on the now familiar opalescent hues that he had determined his shields to be colored. He continued the motion, keeping his hands as steady as possible, as any change in the pattern of his movement resulted in in consistencies in the layer. He could see the tiny scales binding together, holding themselves together. At a point, however, the shield started taking on weight and form. As soon as he felt the physical presence of the shield, it shattered, splintering into an almost dust like haze before disappearing from sight.

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[Keene Ward]

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Frowning, Keene started at the empty air with a perplexed knit of his brow. The sudden destruction of what he had assumed to be a relatively stable structure came as a surprise. The surprise quickly faded into a mild disdain for his own stupidity as he seriously considered the potential reasons for his shield breaking. Having had the foolish idea that the structure had been stable was wise enough for him to derive the issue: the shield was a structure, not a free standing entity. He had even taken the time to build it, but he'd done so in the middle of the air. He was no carpenter nor master of construction, but even he understood a roof did not stand without walls to keep it aloft. Turning his attention to the ground before him, Keene untangled his legs, splaying them out in an acute angle as he leaned forward, wincing at the resistance of the tightness in his groin. Flexibility had never been one of the things he'd found much merit in, but the moment he had to do anything that required some semblance of it, he immediately regretted not spending more time stretching.

Letting himself grow a bit more accustomed to the position, Keene let his knees bend to take some of the pressure off. More comfortable, he was able to place his hands directly onto the ground a little ways from his crotch. The firm foundation of the earth a promising support for what he had slowly been coming to realize was a sort of crafted structure. The ground was, by far, a much more supportive structure for the shield to rest upon. Attempting to draw fourth his djed once more, Keene let his hands return to the gentle sweeping motion as they passed over the ground a few centimeters in a small area slightly larger than the width of his hands put together. With the quickening of breath, Keene kept his hands as steady as he could, rooting his elbow on his raised thighs and gently shifting his hands back and fourth. After a few moments, the trail of glittering particles was left in the wake of his hands. Passing over the area several more times as the layered the shimmering scales, Keene paid close attention to the shield's structure. It seemed sound enough after fifteen passes, and Keene removed his hands from the shield to stare down at the glimmering piece of this djed.

The jagged edges had been smoothed to the point where there seemed to be little tiny teeth sticking out from each side of the shield's sides. There were bumps and divots where his hands had stumbled, but it was by far the most sturdy and long lasting thing he had created thus far. He scooted back some, pulling his legs underneath him as he moved his weight onto his hands to get a closer inspection of his creation. With his nose nearly touching the opalescent scales, Keene traced the little outlines of each uniform piece. While the overall structure had its share of flaws, the flecks that made it up were all perfectly shaped as elongated hexagons, points at the top and bottom with slightly longer sides. It was disappointing that the seemingly flawless nature of the pieces that created the whole were not enough to maintain the whole's own perfection. He supposed it was much the same with the workings of the world. One could have any number of things to create perfection, but inevitably that perfection would be marred by the very nature of life.

A ripple started in the center. Keene frowned down at it as it made its way to the edge where it seemed to fall off into the air. The shield itself, however, remained. While Keene was pleased to have created the shield in the first place, he knew that the magic was meant for more than just frivolous gawking. Taking a hand, Keene moved to tap on the shield. Instead of hitting something solid, his finger moved straight through to the ground. The shield remained intact, but Keene's small triumph quickly switched into confusion. He had expected the shield to repel him in much the same way those of the citadel had. Instead, his finger had just stuck through what he had initially believed to be a structure as if it didn't exist at all. Taking his whole hand, Keene stuck it thought the center of the shield, the action seemingly having little affect. Pulling his hand up and placing it back down, Keene repeated the action several times, each attempt deepening his perplexed frown.

Drawing back to sit with his weight over his knees and the balls of his feet, Keene mused over the useless piece of glimmering opalescence. He had been able to manifest the shield, and it had yet to fade. However, it served no purpose.

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[Keene Ward]

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The sun had begun to set, and while Keene had a much better handle on the path back to the cave, having traversed it in the dark was one time too many for his liking. As he stood, he watched the shield start to fade, realizing he'd been doing little to keep it present at all. As the shifting colors slowly gave way to the plain, dark soil of the plateau, Keene's grey gaze stayed fixed upon the spot the shield had occupied. He had supplied it the initial djed, but beyond that the spell had supported itself, similar to an transmuted element. Elements however remained indefinitely while the djed seemed to fade after a set amount of time or under the improper environmental factors. With that knowledge in mind, Keene turned on the balls of his feet to face the sapling. It was only the second day, and he understood nature took time to grow. Similarly to his shielding practice as well as the reimancy training he had undergone and still did: time was an important factor in the equation that led to growth. He wondered if that had been the intent behind the exercise as he passed by the mound of earth crowned by the twiggy diadem. It was a simple lesson, but a powerful one; however, he felt as though there was much more to learn than the necessary involvement and understanding of such involvement of time.

Coming to the edge of the ledge, Keene eased himself over it, slightly more confident in his ability to stick a landing should he fall. A crumbling of rocky soil soon let him test his mettle. It did not go as he planned. In the short distance from the top of the ledge to the bottom of the angled path below, Keene was unable to find any semblence of balance before he smashed into the earth, tumbling in a fit of arms and legs for a few meters before he stopped thanks to the evening out of the trail. Dazed but otherwise unhurt, Keene stared up at the shifting colors of the cloudy sky, catching his breath that had risen to a quick panic in the short time it had taken from the ledge to his current state of disarray. No amount of magical training could make up for the fact he lacked the proper physicality for arduous (or even above average) displays of strength, balance, and endurance. They were things he supposed he should begin to hone, as the wilderness of Sahova wouldn't wait long before testing him, he was sure.

Gathering himself up, Keene used the side of the rocky wall to support his wobbling legs for a few chimes before feeling ready to walk. Letting his breath return to a pace that didn't threaten hyperventilation, he started once more. His pace was faster than it had been the night before, partially due to his already weary muscles from all the physical activities he'd been subjected to over the past few days, but the fading light was also a useful catalyst for inducing haste. The night prior he had wandered around a particularly familiar looking area where he had thought the cave to be, only to realize he was still about fifteen chimes up from the mouth. As he slid and skid down the rocky face, Keene kept his attention on the task at hand. While he had been accustomed to letting his mind wander from subject to subject as he pleased in the simple safety of his Zeltivan home, Keene found that such daydreaming was incredibly dangerous when it came to climbing and descending mountains. While his fist fall had been rather benign, it didn't change the potential for massive injury where the cliffs were true cliffs or the rocks were slick and rough enough to easily cut through his skin.

Thus, he put the day's training and musings behind him, choosing instead to make sure his feet were being placed in such a way that Atziri would not find his rotting corpse several seasons ahead. Knowing where to place his feet and what sort of terrain would prove slick and loose was not his strong suit. He figured about half his journey down the mountain was comprised of a combination of dirt-skating and arm flailing, though he kept his motions as conservative as he could. Wild motion was almost as bad as attempting to run down the face of the mountain with his eyes closed, thus when balance was lost, Keene's arms would initial shoot out to keep himself upright; however, he kept them as still as possible to discourage the weight of his motion from carrying him over the ledges or down into the windblown trees.

As darkness began to shroud the sky, Keene had finally made it to the last ledge before the partially open area where the mouth of the cave to his waiting bed rested. Coming to the edge, Keene tentatively turned himself around and lowered himself over it. Hit feet hit the ground below a bit unevenly as he released his grip from the rock above, causing him to teeter dangerously for a few ticks before he regained his balance. Letting out a short sigh of relieve, Keene stared at the darkness of the cave's interior. It seemed Atziri had not yet returned, meaning there would be no light unless he could make some. Deciding it was best for him to wait rather then attempt to blindly fumble about the absolute blackness of the cave, Keene eased himself down into a seated position with his back against a part of the lip of the cave. He had had several long days in a row, and he was content to wait for his master's return before he slept.

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[Ink]

Fate has dictated the conclusion to your journey...

...And now, only Fortune awaits you.

I am Ink, Mistress of Sahova; and it is my pleasure to award you with this bounty of XP and Lore. If you have any questions regarding this Grade, please do not hesitate to send me a PM. Fret not, I tend not to smite...often.

 

Keene

XP

• Climbing 2
• Reimancy 1
• Meditation 1
• Tactics 2
• Shielding 4
• Gardening 1
• Philosophy 1
• Land Navigation 1

LORES

• Shielding: A Less Dangerous Art
• Shielding: Visible to the Caster
• Shielding: A Construct of Djed
• Perfection and Mortals are Mutually Exclusive
• Shielding: Djed Maintenance is Necessary

With Regards,
Ink