The twenty-fifth day of spring, 515 AV
Slowly, Keene drew breath in through his nose to slip out through his lips, the steady rise and fall of his chest matching the hiss of the candle's wick as the pale blue flames crept their way along the brittle path. His eyes were shut, but the path along which his djed was carefully shepherded was one that had grown familiar over the many mornings spent first finding then honing its trajectory. He had been testing the limits of his sight, certainly, but there was more the magic than he had at first thought, and in the darkness of his self-inflicted blindness, Keene gingerly ran a finger over the course object in his hand. He had first noticed it with taste, that when his gaze grew intense enough, the flavor of the aura presented him would occasionally leak onto his palate. A shiver ran across his skin, rippling over him like a phantom breeze as he pressed with a bit more force into the object he held aloft.
It was flexible. He could feel it in his skin, the way his muscles moved to press and shift beneath the thin layer they kept them bound to him. There was more than simple plasticity. It was worn, weary, a sort of ache in his bones that came with time and age. The sensation was strange, alien but familiar none the less, and the longer he held the object, the deeper he felt it. Strength was buried throughout the item's aura, a language his own body had slowly come to know over the seasons spent under Atziri's tutelage, thus something that his senses were keen to pick up on. There was more, certainly, but Keene pushed the magic aside, returning the flow his djed back to its natural pathways, steady breathes easing him away from the sensation of the leather, returning him to the feeling of his own skin, his own body.
Setting the glove down in front of him, Keene leaned back, eyes still shrouded by the cloth he had wrapped around his head to ensure the experiment's integrity remain in tact. The loss of sight was something he'd never before thought to explore, as he found the intentional removal of available resources to be foolish under normal circumstances. With auristics, however, the removal of one sense allowed for others to be employed, something that was well worth the inconvenience of temporary disability. It was, however, slow going, and while his patience was well tempered, it didn't make progress any quicker. His most difficult sense, that of touch, was most effective with things he was already familiar with. As with the leather, an aura he'd been experimenting with for the past few days when he was able, touching it usually only induced the memories of the aura's appearance, taste, or sound. It was certainly a step in the right direction to feel it as he did, but his tests had begun to suggest that the sensation of touch was simply going to be one of the weaker ones for him, something that was disappointing but not all together unanticipated.
Fumbling in the darkness for a few ticks, Keene's fingers curled around his water flask before lifting it to his lips to take a refreshing swig of the lukewarm liquid within. For the time being, he resolved to instead focus upon the senses that he found to be better suited to him. While it was certainly a truth that one was only ever as strong as one's greatest weakness, he was still too inexperienced with the magic of auristics to devote too much time towards improving that which was the most difficult for him. As Mella had taught him, a small, firm foundation was far more valuable than a larger, flimsy one. Recapping the flask, Keene settled back into a comfortable position before gathering both breath and thought once more.
Slowly, Keene drew breath in through his nose to slip out through his lips, the steady rise and fall of his chest matching the hiss of the candle's wick as the pale blue flames crept their way along the brittle path. His eyes were shut, but the path along which his djed was carefully shepherded was one that had grown familiar over the many mornings spent first finding then honing its trajectory. He had been testing the limits of his sight, certainly, but there was more the magic than he had at first thought, and in the darkness of his self-inflicted blindness, Keene gingerly ran a finger over the course object in his hand. He had first noticed it with taste, that when his gaze grew intense enough, the flavor of the aura presented him would occasionally leak onto his palate. A shiver ran across his skin, rippling over him like a phantom breeze as he pressed with a bit more force into the object he held aloft.
It was flexible. He could feel it in his skin, the way his muscles moved to press and shift beneath the thin layer they kept them bound to him. There was more than simple plasticity. It was worn, weary, a sort of ache in his bones that came with time and age. The sensation was strange, alien but familiar none the less, and the longer he held the object, the deeper he felt it. Strength was buried throughout the item's aura, a language his own body had slowly come to know over the seasons spent under Atziri's tutelage, thus something that his senses were keen to pick up on. There was more, certainly, but Keene pushed the magic aside, returning the flow his djed back to its natural pathways, steady breathes easing him away from the sensation of the leather, returning him to the feeling of his own skin, his own body.
Setting the glove down in front of him, Keene leaned back, eyes still shrouded by the cloth he had wrapped around his head to ensure the experiment's integrity remain in tact. The loss of sight was something he'd never before thought to explore, as he found the intentional removal of available resources to be foolish under normal circumstances. With auristics, however, the removal of one sense allowed for others to be employed, something that was well worth the inconvenience of temporary disability. It was, however, slow going, and while his patience was well tempered, it didn't make progress any quicker. His most difficult sense, that of touch, was most effective with things he was already familiar with. As with the leather, an aura he'd been experimenting with for the past few days when he was able, touching it usually only induced the memories of the aura's appearance, taste, or sound. It was certainly a step in the right direction to feel it as he did, but his tests had begun to suggest that the sensation of touch was simply going to be one of the weaker ones for him, something that was disappointing but not all together unanticipated.
Fumbling in the darkness for a few ticks, Keene's fingers curled around his water flask before lifting it to his lips to take a refreshing swig of the lukewarm liquid within. For the time being, he resolved to instead focus upon the senses that he found to be better suited to him. While it was certainly a truth that one was only ever as strong as one's greatest weakness, he was still too inexperienced with the magic of auristics to devote too much time towards improving that which was the most difficult for him. As Mella had taught him, a small, firm foundation was far more valuable than a larger, flimsy one. Recapping the flask, Keene settled back into a comfortable position before gathering both breath and thought once more.