Solo A Reprise

[Keene Ward]

The eightieth day of fall, 514 AV.

Keene pulled the water around through the air, feeding the cloud as he drew more and more the water already in the air around him. Having done the same spell every morning, he was finding it much easier to pull the water out of the heavy air from greater distances. There was a limit still, of course, but he could reach much higher into the sky to bring down the water he needed without completely draining the water flask. As the cloud gently swirled, its res center keeping it together while the small, wisps of blue that darted and dashed through the air to restock it with rain slipped in and out. As the drizzle lessoned and the cloud slowly dispersed, Keene took a small swig from the flask before capping it and reattaching it to his waist.

The days had begun to grow colder, though the word was only used in terms of comparatives. It was still just about as warm as the summers in Zeltiva, though the air was surprisingly more breathable. It was due, in part, to his acclimatization. He'd been on the island long enough that the heat no longer bothered him, though it still drew fourth its share fair of sweat. The weather had been changing, however. The clouds had taken to darkening and swelling, though they had yet to release their bounties for the time being. The "chill" had set in a few days ago, a marginally refreshing break, though it brought with it even more humidity if that were possible. Wiping some sweat from his brow, Keene took a few chimes to rest, meandering about the plateau aimlessly as he focused on his djed over all else. Quickly switching from reimancy to shielding was a feat he had yet to master. He wasn't even sure if it was something he could master the transition, as they were separate but similar enough that it was easy to confuse them without taking time for a brief meditation.

Once he felt better prepared, he centered his weight. Pressing against the tingling sensation of his djed that composed his hands, the silvery scales began to pour fourth, hovering in a growing, shimmering mass before him. When he felt he had produced enough of the material to work with, Keene began applying it to his right forearm. He'd lost the sensation in with a while back, but he'd been experimenting with body shields for the past couple days; everywhere he applied the scales had given him the same sensationless application as his forearm. Using just one hand to give physical gesture to his focused will, Keene wrapped the scales around his skin, pressing them against the flesh to bind to it. He had discovered that the particles, to an extent, took on a similar structure as what they were bonded to. Those that were founded upon earth were solid, unmoving. Upon flesh, however, they became fluid, malleable; though this quality only presented itself in response to the base's movement.

As the shimmer grew in intensity, Keene made sure to keep his arm straight to better cover the entire area. During his production of the scales, he had focused on light, the gentle, grey aura that drifted from behind the clouds. As the shield was completed - an opalescent vambrace to mirror that on his left - the darkness beneath it swam, mottled by the chinks in the magical armor. He pulled his arm closer, eying the stability of the scales as they stretched and shrunk as he played with the skin. Having not tasked the barrier to keep out flesh, his fingers disappeared into the darkness as they latched onto what skin he could grab. It had been a strange sensation the first time he'd done it, but now he was much more interested in the shield itself. Were there were lighter patches, Keene vigorously pinched and pulled the skin, pulling the cracks in the shield into more noticeable fissures. The variable shield, as he called it, was more durable than the static shields in the sense that it took much more movement to exacerbate the holes, as the scales were more fluid and better able to compensate for the invasions. Of course, the shield itself was still only as strong as whatever equation was used that took into account his skill, djed, and the initial structure of the shield.

Sighing a brief puff of air, Keene wiggled the fingers on his right hand as the shield disappeared, leaving no trace of its presence behind. Variable shields also seemed to have shorter lifespans, though Keene could hardly attribute that to anything beyond his own lacking understanding of their nature than anything else. Taking a few moments to review what it was he'd done well and done poorly, Keene stared off into the distance. It had become a common tendency for him to extend his gaze out over the vista. He'd stopped seeing what was there and had started seeing beyond it. It was not a mystical ability he had honed from his time spent as a Warden initiate; rather, it was a projection of thought that only he was audience to. It allowed him a visual spatial reasoning of his thoughts, a realm in which his eyes could partake of his processes beyond collecting information. It was all subjective and contained within his mind, of course, but the habitual gaze towards the horizon seemed to help his visualizations for whatever reason - familiarity, perhaps.

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[Keene Ward]

Settling down at the edge of the ledge, a spot he found more and more appealing with each passing day, Keene let his heels gently bounce against the rock, the impact lessened by his leather boots. As the small particles of earth were dislodged and tumbled down into the distant land below, Keene watched them drift downwards until they disappeared beneath the tips of the trees. Flexing his fingers, Keene prepared the djed of his hands to once more produce the shimmering scales. Applying the small amount of pressure of will, they slid from his fingertips, cascading down into a small pile between his legs. As they fell, Keene once more held the light of that firmly in his mind. Though other thoughts started, he kept them in the back of his consciousness, allowing the overcast glow from the clouds to fill both sight and perception until he had produced enough of the opalescent shards to comfortably work with.

This time, Keene began to carefully wrap the scales about the fingers of his right hand, starting from the tips of his digits to the crook of his elbow. The shimmering shards stuck together, coating his flesh with the glimmering light. Pulling more and more with each pass, the shield was eventually completed. Keene had underestimated how much djed he would have to produce, and the shield was dimmer near his elbow than where it was strongest at his finger tips. When he had been producing the scales, Keene had held the vision of light firmly in his mind. The pale, occluded light that diffused its way all over the entire island shone steady, its essence infusing the scales as they had been freed from his fingers. Once they were cemented to his skin, the body beneath was hidden, an unnatural shadow under the shining barrier. There were areas of mottled greys where the chinks in the shield let light through, primarily around the joints of his fingers and around the wrist. He squinted down at the shield, appraising the size and regularity of the holds in his magical armor.

The scales, while versatile, were not quite closing to make a solid sheet. It seemed there were natural weak points that presented themselves when he used an application method generally suited to flat surfaces. Wherever the skin's surface altered directions, at his wrists, or his joints, required either smaller scales or thicker layers to compensate for the lack of overall coverage. He wiggled the fingers, waving his hand back and fourth in front of his face. The movement of the shield was sound, though it didn't last much longer for more inspection before it started to fade. He leaned back, pressing the heels of his palms into the dirt behind him. Shielding, however mentally taxing, had a calming effect on his psyche. It required his full attention, drawing his mental faculties away from the constant buzz that filled his mind and pinpointed it on defensive magic form. He found it therapeutic, though it was a sentiment he kept entirely to himself. He had read that time was the greatest salve for wounds, but time alone could not rid him entirely of that which he feared, dreaded, and hid from. Neither could shielding, but it was certainly a distraction.

Taking a small break from what had become his alloted shielding practice time, Keene lay back on the found and let his eyes close. His breathing came steady, a slow rise and fall of the chest as the air filled and left his lungs. He could feel the little scratches of earth pressing against the exposed skin of his neck. The numbness in his right arm refused the sensations. Keene pulled his left arm over, eyes still closed, and poked his other forearm. He could feel the pressure, but beyond that it lacked the sensation. He couldn't really remember when exactly he'd lost feeling in the limb, but it was only now that he thought to consider it. He hadn't really noticed it due mostly to the fact that his faculties still remained. There wasn't a time he could think of when he had had feeling in it. Letting his left arm drop to the ground beside him once more, Keene squinted up at the greyscale sky. Perhaps he had been born with it. He wasn't certain, and he doubted if he ever would be. The sensation wasn't necessary, and, to an extent, he supposed it was actually useful. Not having feeling in his right arm meant he could, if necessary, utilize it beyond what was normally conventional for a limb.

Keene wondered if he could still feel pain. He'd never really stopped to consider it. Pushing himself back up into a seated position, Keene flicked some res from his left hand, the bluish substance floating in the air for a few ticks before he twisted his wrist about to shape the liquid into a fingerlength blade, snapping his fingers to transmute the entire thing into ice, catching it on the flat with his right hand. There was the sensation of his warm skin sticking to the frozen surface, but no feeling of cold or pain. Gripping the makeshift knife in his left hand, Keene drew the edge against his forearm, making a small incision into the skin a few inches from his elbow, avoiding the mess of veins in favor of the more meaty flesh above. Though he felt his skin separate, there was no pain. As he watched the small trickle of blood flow fourth, dripping into the dirt, Keene turned the blade and made a few exploratory pokes into the wound. It was strange. He could feel the blade move in and out, but it was muted, as if he were being touched through a fatty barrier, only just aware of the pressure. Not wanting to push his limits too far, Keene ceased his icy invasion into his body, letting the lesion continue to bleed. He rose the blade up to his face, glaring at the blood that had frozen to the tip. Tapping it against his lips, Keene contemplated what potential uses the lack of feeling of his arm presented.
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[Keene Ward]

The blood on his arm had begun to harden, sealing up his self-inflicted wound and signaling it was time to shield once more. He remained seated, planting his hands on either side of him to adjust his position slightly to the left. Once he was situated, he slowed his breathing. Setting both hands in his lap, Keene pressed against his tingling djed, the silvery substance pooling in his lap. He produced siginificantly less that before, his intent to cover on his hand for the time being. All the while, the occluded light filled his focus, the task passing to the opalescent shards until he stopped his production, satisfied with the amount. Raising both hands, Keene gently swirled his left, the shards rising up from their pile and applying themselves to his hand. Instead of using the fluid passes similar to spreading butter over bread, Keene adopted a slow, methodical placement of the shards, like a jigsaw puzzle. He made sure to move with enough speed that the shards didn't lose their sheen, but when it came to joints, he fit the scales in tighter.

With each pass, he was careful to make sure he applied the coats evenly over the flatter planes of his hand and fingers, with a thicker coating about the joins and other areas that had been prone to cracks and holes. The whole process took almost as long as it had to coat his arm, his careful attention to detail taking precedent over speed. Once it was finished, he examined his work. This time, however, there were few fault lines about the joints, even when he wiggled his fingers. About the flat part of his palm, however, were a myriad of holes. He had spent his attention too completely on the original problem areas and had neglected that which had been fine before. Having changed his rhythm of application, however, meant that each part of the shield should have been reconsidered as a potential problem. On top of that, the areas he'd added extra layers to were bulky, inelegant, and seemed as though he may have layered on a few too many extra. Shaking and waving his hand about, he checked for any errors in tasking, finding the darkness, even where the shield was thickest, was a bit grey for his tastes.

As it faded, he pushed himself to his feet, flexing his fingers and taking stretching strides about the area. When he attempted to fix one thing, another problem arose. Shielding's life metaphors were not entirely lost upon him, but he didn't find them very helpful in furthering his magical abilities. His breaks were taken more to reflect upon what it was he was doing rather than to give himself actual rest. He had taken Relos' words to heart, appraising each shield as its own entity and often comparing them to those of the past in an attempt to glean what had improved or changed. As things were currently, he wondered if a large part of the problem was rigidity. One of the reasons chinks were showing themselves was due in part to the scales being unable to properly cover the areas he needed it to. Up until recently when he had sought to improve the regularity of the shards by adding pressure of will to their production, Keene had imagined the scales to be fairly unalterable. If that were not the case, however, Keene wondered to what extent he could manipulate the shape of the base shielding structure if at all.

As he paced, the rate of movement slow and steady, his mind whirred. If the form could be altered, he wondered how he would go about doing it. He was certain it was something more than just thinking about the shape he wanted. If he did that, there was a highly likely chance he'd just end up tasking (or improperly tasking) against that specific form rather than creating it to use as a building block. Perhaps it had something to do with how he handled his own djed. If he instilled the image of what he wanted to produce rather than allow the protruding djed to take whatever form it pleased, there was a chance that force of will could affect the end result. If that were the case, however, he wondered to what extent he would have to focus on what it was he wanted to create and in what capacity. He imagined trying to extrude his djed as a fully formed glove was a bit out of the question. The way the djed acted, it wasn't something he could immediately mold as it separated itself from his being. It had to be shaped and formed, which meant whatever form he tried to produce it in would require a state of structure similar to the scales with the malleability of something more forgiving when it came to the actual construction.

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[Keene Ward]

Settling down in the middle of the flattened area, Keene crossed his legs and stilled his mind. The latter took a good handful of chimes, a combination of breathing, closed eyes, and a fixation on the light, fluffy quality of a cirrus cloud. He'd thought long and hard about the preferred medium he wanted to work in, and the airy quality of a cloud he found suited him best. Of course, he knew the true nature of the puffy masses was a wet, fog like substance as ethereal as the air itself, but for the sake of shielding, he found the possibility of a fluffy, cloud-like cotton to be a bit more manageable than scales. Pushing to frivolous speculations and apprehensions out of the forefront of his consciousness, Keene painted a picture of a cloud. It was an easy task, having spent countless days looking up at the sky defining the different shapes, their properties, and why they were relevant. They were one of the first pictures he'd ever seen as well, their diagrams neatly outlined in one of the first academic journals he had read. When he was young, he had thought them similar to pillows, though that thought was quickly replaced with the truth the moment he'd inquired as to whether they would make comfortable beds.

In a way, the desire to create cloud-like djed was reminiscent of a childhood dream to sleep among the clouds. Long forgotten, however, Keene never stopped to consider that as a possibility, thinking it simply natural he would feel more of an affinity for weather based metaphor than something potentially aquatic like scales. So with his intent in mind, Keene continued to focus on it, pulling straying thoughts back into the greater form of his conscience. He wanted his djed to see it, to feel it, to understand it. It wasn't enough to simply think it into existence. He had to feel it; his djed had to feel it. He drew upon the perceived qualities of the cloud, the lightness, softness, and airy qualities. He broke it apart, pulling it into thin, gossamer filaments, reconstructing it into its original shape, new shapes, no shapes. He pulled and tore and stretched and scrunched, and as he did so, he began to feel his djed quiver. The first time it happened, he grew a bit too excited and his concentration broke, forcing him to start again. Moving through the same patterns of thought, he reattempted several more times until the quivering became an expected outcome, a side effect of his internal musings.

Pushing past, he focused on the essence of the cloud as it was perceived, not its "true" nature. It was lightness, the most supreme status of delicate comfort that could never be known. Not only that, it was a shield, a wall. Despite its gossamer appeal, the cloud itself was a barrier, stopping light and heat from passing through it unaffected. It was a natural shield, a barrier of the common world. What better to protect himself with than that which protected him daily? He felt the sensation of his djed shifting, slipping its way from his fingertips. He allowed it, the image of the cloud in all its forms fully encompassing his mind. For the time being, he was unable to task until he knew if his plan had succeeded or failed. As the sensation continued, he allowed himself to gaze down at his hands. Thin wisps of fluff floated around him, a shimmering, miniature cloud in his lap. For a brief moment, Keene's lips twitched into a smile before he straighted out and up, setting to work.

The cloud-djed was much more manageable to work with. It was better suited to the flowing, controlled motions Keene preferred, and it wrapped to the form of his fingers nicely. The fluff, however, was composed of small, suspended particles of his djed. It had a "stretchy" quality about it as well, allowing him to use a single swath of djed to wrap and mold over his hand several times over depending upon how "tight" he wanted it. The qualities were a bit relative as the shield had little effect on his body's movement. Instead, it was merely his way of applying arbitrary attributes in order to better understand it. The "loser" the djed was "stretched" the more solid the shield seemed to become. It was similiar to wrapping himself in the fluffy cotton. "Stretching" the cotton too much resulted in a tear, but when it was left free to it's own devices, it molded around the surface, the fluffy quality seeming to "deflate" as it bonded to his skin. He had control over the rate of "deflation", choosing to lock in each layer of shield as he applied it. It made the application easier, seeing clearly what was part of the existing shield and what was being added. He much preferred it over the spreading of scales like some shimmering paste.

The finished product was an opalescent glove nearly identical to the prior at a glance. Upon closer inspection, however, there was more of a cohesiveness about it. While still uneven in places (detecting holes without giving the shield a task was too difficult to discern), the shield had remained true to its cloudy origins. Gentle waves of shimmering color spread throughout as his hand moved. It was similar to the gentle rolling waves of clouds in the sky above him, their rises pressing against each other in complimentary contrast. Flexing his fingers, he found the shield was even more receptive to movement than his previous incarnations. As it started to fade, Keene appraised the rate of dispersal. Unlike the scales that seemed to disappear at the same rate, the could-djed was more randomized, sections losing sheen before others and eventually disappearing to leave blotchy light until that too faded. He wasn't sure if it had any sort of important implications on the actual shield, but determining whether he could task immediately after altering the exposed form of his djed was a little bit higher on his list of priorities.
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[Keene Ward]

Stilling his mind once more, a process that despite the myriad of bells spent doing so still took him chimes, Keene focused once more on the light. As he did so, he allowed his djed to drift from him. He kept his eye open and towards the sky, the dualistic image of both clouds and light a minor ploy to produce cloud-djed tasked to block light. The result was discouraging. Irregular scales mixed with bits of fluff piled between his legs, settling in a mess in his lap. Disappointed, though not discouraged, Keene attempted to use the mismatched materials to create his shield. It was slow going, and the "locking" feature that had been present in the previous incarnation of his djed seemed to be a bit more confusing with the presence of the scales. When he tried to push the cloud-djed down to compact it, the scale-djed started to separate (something he'd thought much more difficult to do before). Thus, the application required the cloud-djed to be placed and locked with a coat of scale-djed over it. The tasking itself was weak, a dull grey in the thickest, most complete areas of the shield.

Shaking his head down at his abomination of shield, Keene had a feeling the different djed types weren't really intended to mix cohesively. He had confused his very essence, and he figured it was simply a matter of time before he would be able to task a new form of his djed. All in all, he'd taken a large step towards improvement. As he rose to his feet, he felt much more confident in his role as a shielder. New properties had been theorized, tested, and found plausible. While he hadn't succeeded entirely, he had failed in the proper direction. With too many things to focus on at a time, his tasking had weakened. By trying to rewrite, to an extent, the seemingly natural form of his manifested djed without repetition and gradual acclimation, he'd confused it. Both mistakes had not been far outside the realm of potentially viable, but they had given him a firm direction to work towards.

Padding over to the side of the plateau that led back down to the caves, Keene eased himself over, landing on the ledge below with bent knees and grimace. The climbing was getting easier, but it was by no means a comfortable hike to and from his base of operations. As he started downwards, he let his newfound shielding knowledge ferment, choosing instead to dwell upon where he was going to patrol for the rest of the day. Atziri had requested he gather up as many of the Acacia's seeds as he could, as they were starting to go out of season until the next batch. She said it as though he knew exactly when the "next batch" was going to ripen, but the paper she'd given him during his initiation to the task of foraging had held no such information. Still, he did as Atziri beckoned. When the acacia ripened once more, he was certain he would either be told or see it for himself.

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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

• Shielding 4
• Research 2
• Raymansea 1
• Organization 1
• Observation 1
• Tactics 1

LORES

• Lack of Feeling Arms
• Shielding: Against Light
• Shielding: Clouds vs Scales

MISCELLANEOUS

• Shields... uh no. Just go reread the lore

With Regards,
Ink