Timestamp: 10th of Winter 515 AV
Walking among the smooth stones Shane could not help but remember the last time he was there. That was the day he had met Aoren. The mere thought of him caused Shane to look down at his hands. He had read that oftentimes the scars of Reimantic initiation were kept as a keepsake. Aoren hadn't given him a choice about it. His power, that divine power, had washed the wound away as if the man hadn't cut his body and forced magic into his unreceptive body. It had been a horrible experience but one Shane had asked for. He had brought it upon himself and done little with the newfound power. Perhaps the memory was scar enough.
Shane did not know why he had chosen to walk this way. A part of him had wanted to find somewhere quiet and nice. There had been many spots such as that in Riverfall. Of course the city was vastly less overpopulated than the Citadel. The weather had been better too. Syna had left sometime yesterday and, according to prior experience, she wouldn't be back for another few Leth cycles. She was somewhere far behind clouds today and a chill wind had taken the place of her usual warmth; not that it was really ever that warm in Sylira.
Shane chastised himself for comparing the city to Riverfall for the umpteenth time since he had arrived yesterday. Syliras didn't have a lot of the attractive qualities of Riverfall but it was also his home and didn't participate in a legitimised sex trade where woman were idolised for their breeding abilities. That was also a bonus. Plus there was a lot less magical awareness and giant multicoloured muscle masses with no sense of humour. Returning had been the right idea. He just had to adjust to a couple of things.
Nothing would help Shane adjust more than his old past time, aura-reading. Shane had spent a lot of his old days sitting about and just reading the auras of passers by. As far as he was aware people couldn't sense the intrusion so there was little risk of reprimand. A few times he had been told off for staring or chased off by husbands. It was good practice in any case and a jot more fun than any other leisure activities he could think of.
He located a bench and had himself sitting upon it in short order. He was wearing his jacket and scarf as well as his thick, leather gloves so, despite the cold, he was relatively comfortable. He took a deep breath as he was want to do before performing magic and allowed the fabulous technicolour of auras into his vision. Shane had always believed the site to be like opening an additional eye but more recently he had started to feel more like he was simply allowing the auras to be seen as if they were always there and people were making an effort not to see them. Shane knew he might be entirely wrong on that point and guessed it was a matter more of philosophy. Without hard, concrete facts the philosophy would just have to do...
Walking among the smooth stones Shane could not help but remember the last time he was there. That was the day he had met Aoren. The mere thought of him caused Shane to look down at his hands. He had read that oftentimes the scars of Reimantic initiation were kept as a keepsake. Aoren hadn't given him a choice about it. His power, that divine power, had washed the wound away as if the man hadn't cut his body and forced magic into his unreceptive body. It had been a horrible experience but one Shane had asked for. He had brought it upon himself and done little with the newfound power. Perhaps the memory was scar enough.
Shane did not know why he had chosen to walk this way. A part of him had wanted to find somewhere quiet and nice. There had been many spots such as that in Riverfall. Of course the city was vastly less overpopulated than the Citadel. The weather had been better too. Syna had left sometime yesterday and, according to prior experience, she wouldn't be back for another few Leth cycles. She was somewhere far behind clouds today and a chill wind had taken the place of her usual warmth; not that it was really ever that warm in Sylira.
Shane chastised himself for comparing the city to Riverfall for the umpteenth time since he had arrived yesterday. Syliras didn't have a lot of the attractive qualities of Riverfall but it was also his home and didn't participate in a legitimised sex trade where woman were idolised for their breeding abilities. That was also a bonus. Plus there was a lot less magical awareness and giant multicoloured muscle masses with no sense of humour. Returning had been the right idea. He just had to adjust to a couple of things.
Nothing would help Shane adjust more than his old past time, aura-reading. Shane had spent a lot of his old days sitting about and just reading the auras of passers by. As far as he was aware people couldn't sense the intrusion so there was little risk of reprimand. A few times he had been told off for staring or chased off by husbands. It was good practice in any case and a jot more fun than any other leisure activities he could think of.
He located a bench and had himself sitting upon it in short order. He was wearing his jacket and scarf as well as his thick, leather gloves so, despite the cold, he was relatively comfortable. He took a deep breath as he was want to do before performing magic and allowed the fabulous technicolour of auras into his vision. Shane had always believed the site to be like opening an additional eye but more recently he had started to feel more like he was simply allowing the auras to be seen as if they were always there and people were making an effort not to see them. Shane knew he might be entirely wrong on that point and guessed it was a matter more of philosophy. Without hard, concrete facts the philosophy would just have to do...
