15th of Summer, 518
As the Reimancer trudged through the city of Sunberth, it did not escape him that an incredible irony was about to commence. He chuckled quietly to himself as he watched, his cool gray stare cast in either direction. His pace was kept brisk, hands in the pockets of his pants as he continued down the path leading towards Execution Square. He'd heard of the place from a number of locals at a bar, a sense of wonderment compelling him to pay a visit. The idea of seeing a number of bodies hanging from the local 'lynching' trees, perhaps, kicked off a morbid fascination within the Reimancer. However, his primary motivation for his visit would be that such a place would surely have a great deal of space - and privacy - for him to commence with a new skill he'd sought to learn. Lightning had proven difficult - but possible - to tame. He'd found the mixture of elements to be trying, but once he'd gotten a hang of it, he found a great satisfaction in the bolt of lightning shooting through the air and dissipating at its target. Today, of course, his plans were different.
Farris sought to expand his repertoire even further. A single bolt seemed, to him, something that just wouldn't be enough. Could he manage to create a number of them? He'd not pursued using Reimancy as a solely offensive craft in the past, preferring to err in the path of caution. After all, Farris' father had taught him well about the possible consequences of overgiving.
"The situation has changed..." he argued with himself aloud, knowing full well that the day would come - sooner than later - that he'd need to defend himself. The irony struck him again, a soft laughter cast from his lips as he found that the most likely place for him to be taken in being caught as a mage... was right where he was. "Better to be here on my terms, I suppose," he admitted. The Reimancer made his way to the tree and straight past it. Several shade-covered 'cubicles' seemed to exist, cut off from the greater city of Sunberth and yet spacious enough for him to feel that he could hone his craft. Hands clasped together as the Reimancer began to pull at the djed that waxed and waned within the depths of his soul. He felt a delicious chill flow down his spine, his expression curved into a greedy smile as Res spilled from his fingertips, leaking from the scars that had bred Reimancy into his very nature. The chill spread throughout his body as the Res began to expand. He moulded it the Res into not one, but two oblong shapes. Letting the Res hover just outside of his grasp, he'd begin to transmute it, his hands opened, fingers extended outwards as the whole of his focus was kept on maintaining the delicate balance between too much and not enough Res placed into the intended transmutation.
A faint crackle could be heard as the transmutation transpired. First, the Res seemed to wane, growing thinner and thinner until it vanished entirely. However, the invisible spears were not dissipating. Rather, electricity coursed upon the surface of each invisible length until they flared. In that very moment, heat surged in the air, spears of Res transmuted into individual and very visible bolts that sped towards a crumbling mass of abandoned pottery. The bolts split from one another, two flying through the skies while the last made for its intended target. The heat immediately blistered the ceramic surface, cracks visible in its surface for but a moment before its integrity (or what was left) was forfeit. A pile of ash was left where a large pottery fragment had once existed. A thrill cast upon the mage's senses, his features twisted into an elated grin. He'd reach into his rucksack and retrieve from it his journal. The beautifully crafted book had only one page marked as of yet, and this would surely be the second.
'15th of Summer, 518.
The journey towards honing Reimancy continues. Lightning has proven a fickle element, struggling to obey and yet malleable regardless. Given further practice, more than one arc of lightning will surely make its way towards its intended destination. Do I need to concentrate further? Should I be more ambitious?'
The segment of an entry was left alone at that, his journal stowed into his rucksack anew as the mage reflected upon what he had done. Surely another try wouldn't arouse too much attention. He assumed his previous position, intent on doing another try.