Adrift a Dream

[Elias Caldera]

13th Day of Winter, 518 AV

This had been a long time coming.

In truth, it had begun with but an idle thought, the kind that floats through the study addled minds of every overworked student at the University in Zeltiva where Elias had once honed his arcane craft; ‘what could my magic do to make the world a better place?’

It was the kind of noncommittal, highfalutin reverie of one’s own oversized ego that every first year mage often indulged in as they probed the boundaries of their magic. Some could of course find the will and the way to make their bold ideals a reality, but most, including Elias, simply resigned themselves to enjoying the dream for what it was, a dream.

Today however, was where all that changed.

It had been a long time in planning, and Elias knew it wouldn't be a simple matter, but the fact that it was at all a possibility now was enough to negate any sense of hesitation or doubt. He’d been thinking on this for years, and as the magecrafter looked about him, surveying the stuffy dockside warehouse he called his labaoratory and breathed deep its saw dust laden air, he felt a passion within him begin to bloom anew. Between the materials, tools and space requirements, the cost of this endeavor would be wild in scope, but the rewards… the rewards would speak for themselves. A sentiment his esteemed benefactor also shared with perhaps even more gusto than the mage himself.

Odell Markham looked up from his toil, sweat laden and lathered in the wood shavings that clung to his muscular arms. He gave Elias an encouraging nod along with a half hearted salute of his handsaw before returning to his work, slicing away at yet another plank of lumber that would soon serve them well in their enterprise. The Ebonstryfe commander was a squat, square jawed man who couldn’t be more than thirty summers at the most. Hair slicked back, face neatly trimmed, and spine rigid like a board, he would have been the very model of a Ravokian officer were it not for the occasional grin that tugged at the corner of his lip… or the remnants of a faded half sun tattoo marring his right hand.

When Odell had first approached Elias with this, the Caldera didn’t know what to make of the man. A Drift officer, proposing unmitigated benefaction for the betterment of all Ravokians? It must have been some convoluted trick, he’d surmised at first, but as Elias came to understand Odell and the factors that drove his determination, he realized that while the other commander may have been stymied in stature, he was colossal in his dauntless will and vigor. The very kind of man Elias’s movement among the ranks of the Stryfe needed. It was no surprise then to realize that it was indeed the movement that had brought the Odell to him to begin with. Apparently Corinthia had made good on her promise, spreading the word to those who had all the talent, tact, and tenacity the Young Bloods were looking for. What was a surprise however, was the fact that all this was originally Odell’s idea.

“Can you do it?” Had been the question the dogged commander had finally landed on after bells of deliberation and discussion. The question held a great depth to it, but when boiled down to its basics it came to this; If he was supplied with all the labor, materials and money he would need… could he do it? Could he actually magecraft an entire ship to sail faster than any other before it? Fast enough to run down any pursuit with ease, to cross the entirety of the lake in an hour or even less, to glide across the waters like a feather in the wind? In the end, Elias had answered Odell with nothing but the truth; “Of course I can.”

What followed next was a blur of activity and haste fueled by a man whose passion far outreached his rank. Odell was almost fanatical in his desire to have his humble new vessel enhanced and promised no expense would be spared. Elias found himself soon provisioned at a rather large and dusty warehouse at the heart of the Ravokian Shipyards; the unofficial bastion of the unofficially named Drift, The Ebonstryfe’s maritime forces. Technically they weren’t any different from regular soldiers despite their duties being focused primarily on the lake itself, but in practicality everyone within the order recognized the rift between soldiers and marines.

Elias didn’t exactly hold any animosity for those brother’s of his that patrolled the sacred waters, but in the eyes of more than a few, the Drift weren’t seen as real soldiers like the rest of them. Most thought them to spend their days lazily fishing in the sun while the real Stryfers were out there in the mud and blood getting shyke done, as it were. Odell however, was no lie about. Far from it in fact, he was a man of ambition, and Elias could tell as much after only knowing him for a few days. He wanted the fastest ship on the lake, and he wanted it for himself. Not to impress his masters with his gumption and resourcefulness, but to one day replace them, and in time, replace those they called ‘master’ as well. He was ardent in his quest, and more than that, fueled by a sense of patriotism that rivaled even Elias’s. It was a drive for ascension that had seen him put his own fortune on the line to fund this entire endeavor, and the costs were far from paltry. In particular, Elias distinctly remembered the moment of having to explain the price for a vile of the glyphing ink he would have to use, and then the look on Odell’s face when he went on to mention that he was going to need a few buckets worth of the stuff… and probably a mop… to paint with.

And that wasn’t even including the thousands of mizas worth of arcane catalysts that would be needed to fuel the magic.

Odell had gone nearly as pale as Elias when he’d been given the estimated total. Considering this was now day three of their work on the ship so far and none of the supplies the magecrafter had thus requested had yet to be denied to him… well, it was enough for Elias to know Odell was the real deal.

“You know,” the mage began, turning from his glyphwork to face Markham, “in all our haste, I never asked you what you were going to name her.”

Odell smirked, setting aside his lumberwork and hauling himself up to his feet before instructing the rest of his men to continue with their own labors. “She is a beauty, is she not. One deserving of an equally fitting name.” The captain cooed as he stepped up beside the Caldera, his gaze falling unto the unfished framework of ship in question. It stood suspended by the scaffolding before them, the half covered skeleton of a sloop of impressive size and scale that dominated the entire building with its girth. Sixty tons of cargo space, enough room for fifty soldiers to board, and two mounted harpoon guns on her flanks. They didn’t make hunters this big in Ravok anymore, for rarely was there a need for it. For Odell to be the captain of one of the few sloops that patrolled the harbors of Ravok must have made him an exceptional captain.

“The Purity of Faith.” Odell chimed in, staring at his ship like a lovestruck fool. “That’s what we’ll call her…”

“A fine name for a fine ship… but we can make her finer still.”

WC - 1293

[Elias Caldera]

Before him was their ship, the harbinger of their aspirations and the chariot that would carry them to their destination with swiftness unparalleled. Elias walked around it, his senses reaching out to analyze the structure of the vessel, the ambient djed in the room -everything that made the ship what it was. Faint braziers around the warehouse kept the shadows at bay while he studied, but they did little to stem the errant and eerie creaks of old timber overhead, nor the squeaking of rats that darted here and there. The mage allowed neither to interrupt him. There was righteous work to be done.

First he prepared some simple black paint, and then walked the perimeter of the room, murmuring a sonorous chant of binding as he spilled out a chain of runes to surround the entire length of the sloop, emphasis going to the focus on the opposite end of the room from the warehouse door. Next he laid out the intricate enchantment sigil, a ring of glyphs around a serrated edge of ink, an oval around the aft of the sloop, two smaller circles on either side of it, and then the webwork of channels and blocks, links and transmuting glyphs that grew ever more complex, filling the majority of the warehouse and actually taking over an hour to complete. Now, to say encircling an entire warship with ink was a monumental undertaking was an equally monumental understatement. Elias required and gallons of the stuff, quantities he had never before worked with in his entire career as a magecrafter. Quantities that were required for such a large-scale enchanting. The sorcerer needed the ink not only to contain the djed within his circle, but also to bend and mold it to his will on a massive scale. That much ink couldn’t just be laid out with a simple paintbrush like usual. He had had to get creative, and lucky for them all, Elias was nothing if not resourceful.

Reimancy had been the answer in the end. An old trick of his actually, one involving water and the dilution of the ink within. To put it simply, Elias formed small floating bubble out of his res controlled water, feeding the ink into it until all was murky black and suspended in the air before him. Then it was a simple process of siphoning the water away until what was left was merely a shell, a liquidy membrane that held host to the ink but was still under the reimancer’s control. By removing as much water as was feasible and leaving only the ink behind, Elias effectively turned his water reimancy into ink reimancy. He could move and manipulate the black bubble of smudge as effectively as he could his own res born water, and in turn, did so to mark out his glyphs all around the ship with relative ease. In the end, it saved potentially days’ worth of intricate glyphing along with all the headaches that could have accompanied it.

Thankfully with that done, he was able to put the paint away, rubbed his eyes and stretched his fingers. He had expended little magical energy, but the concentration level was taxing, even if he was brimming with excited energy just below the surface. After a brief break to inspect his scrawling however, it was back to work.

He went to stand in front of the focus glyph on the far wall, standing before it with his hands held in front of him, one hand twisted into a mudra of power, the other of energizing. Breathing in, he prepared, and then, as he breathed out, shield energy poured out of his hand and into the focus. He was never particularly good at shielding per say, but considering the amounts of djed he was working with it was still better than nothing, even if it required too much concentration to control properly. Luckily with the help of these glyphs, all he had to do was provide the energy, which was the easy part. The focus filled with shield energy, and then quickly bled along the chain to surround the entire room, eventually expanding up and down along walls, covering ceiling and floor. He didn't task the energy, which would have required more effort, but merely let it close off the flow of outside djed, which might disrupt things. The reactions of his enchantment would keep the magic within from growing stale and sickly over the next few days.

With that done, Elias he stood before the ship, gathering himself and holding both hands over one of the smaller circles in the matrix of glyphs he’d created. Out of one hand a tendril of blue res came, and from the other, another. The two twined together like the snakes of a caduceus before energizing the circle with their power, flashing a pale blue-white as it began to light up the rest of the glyphs save that last little circle. That done, he took a deep breath and knelt before the ship as if it were an altar.

Though voiding was not his forte, all he had to do was provide the spark, the initial space of nothingness that would open the portal, and then he could set it within the circle and the glyphs would support it. It became a matter of concentration, his fingers a clawed cage over the little circle, his imagination pulling all matter and energy away from an imagined spot within until he felt something crack and split open. It was his cue to command a slight pull. Then he released his control and the glyphs began to regulate it, opening up that tiny portal into the Void to the proper size and holding it there, preventing it from opening too wide or pulling too hard.

"Here we go."

With a heavy sigh, Elias held his hands over the matrix. In an instant, strands of res spooled out from his dangling fingers, wrapping around it, cocooning it until it was sheathed in his energy. Then and only then, he began to funnel that energy into the ship itself, witnessing with his auritics as the vessel’s internal make up began to take new shape, the magical structure growing more complex to make room for his enchantment as his res mixed with the magic of the catalysts that now permeated the entirety of the Faith and would soon help fuel the magecrafting process. It had taken three entire days for the collection of geodes and gems and other arcane accoutrements to be emptied of their djed and repurposed into the ship. He laid glyphs down within and across the ship itself with his ink as well after this, preparing it for the energy that would come, glyphs to augment and alter, hold and imbue the Faith and its untapped djed to do exactly as Elias willed.

Time passed -He wasn't sure how long- but finally, he felt his task coming to an end. With the last slivers of res dripping from his hands coming to an end, Elias rose upon unsteady feet. Only one thing remained to do that day, and that was perhaps the simplest yet at the same time, the most important. He took out a small hammer of silver etched with runes and chimed it thrice along the hull of the Purity. The hammer pulled a minor chord out of wood, a song of pure djed upon which he would orchestrate the concerto toward which the ship’s resonance should shift over the course of the next day.

And like that, the foundations were set. All the pieces were in their proper place, and now all that was left to do was wait and see.

Soon enough however, his artist’s hands would busy themselves forging a thing of beauty.

WC - 1301

[Elias Caldera]

Five days into the enchantment and things were going well. Most of what he did in that time was merely monitoring the evolution of the Purity of Faith’s structure under the influence of his sigils and interconnected spells.

And so today he continued in his pattern. With his keen auristics, he gauged things deftly. Already the structural enhancements were taking the natural strength of the ship’s hull and making it more pliant to the magics that coursed within it. It would lose no strength or hardness of course, but would bend before it broke, making it more durable to the magics that would course through and against it in the days to come. The behavioral enhancement was more delicate and slower to develop, but it was about to bloom. Perhaps in one more day it would have manifest, in which case the mechanism Odell had been working on would have its part to play.

In the meantime Elias meditated upon his small portal to the Void, widening it where it had begun to fall victim to its own vacuous pull. It was almost more difficult to maintain this portal than it was to first create it, but his glyphs were helping immeasurably. Without those, he wasn't sure whether he could so fine tune his work with these arcane arts like shielding and voiding to which his skills were often found lacking.

Next he strengthened the shields with a small infusion of djed, not wanting anything to alter the course he had set for the ship, nor anything to escape, really. And last he added a bit of res to the pool he had saved; it was easier to give little bits every day rather than more all at once. ‘Little bits’ of course were nearly his entire djed reserve for the day, but in the face of the huge amount the ship would need, the amounts he provided were small in comparison. He was trying to conserve his resources and keep his natural equilibrium with smaller expenditures of power over the course of the days, but truthfully it helped little. Whether it was quick or slow, draining himself still left the same dismal feeling in his bones as it always did.

Lastly, he took out a golden hammer from his magecrafting tool belt, using the instrument to strike gently at the side of the vessel at specific places determined by its aura in order to direct the development of the new pathways for its djed. He was an old hand at this part of the shaping and there was little to correct thanks to all the time and energy spent in the initial planning.

Patience Elias… he reminded himself deftly.

This was the last phase of preparation he’d need to wait through, and his muscles squirmed and danced with the effort of simply keeping still when all the Ravokian wanted to do was jump in and just start already! The Caldera craved to hear the enchanted metal of his hammer sing with power and purpose, to make history with every strike and carve out a piece of immortal excellence with each true blow.

Standing in the middle of the complex maze of runes sprawled out across the floor, Elias turned his gaze fully on the great vessel, the magnificent vision of Ravokian craftsmanship ready and waiting for his touch. Practiced fingers tightened and the magecrafter lifted his hammer, one gentle swing bringing it down upon the hull in a splash of vibrant colors as the auras collided.

The sound his strike made shook the very docks themselves.

WC - 597

[Elias Caldera]

So much djed…

So much djed and all of it at his mercy.

It was beautiful to behold. Whats more, it was also ready. He could sense the pathways within the ship, they had become more ordered, more complex, and more importantly, eager to be set into place.

Elias wasted little time. With his hammer he did strike the vessel, its djed responding to the symphony of his blows, harmonizing, oscillating, rising and falling. Soon the song telescoped down into a single, ringing tone, and he worked it, shaping its note across the entirety of the hull until every aspect of the ship knew its chorus. It was the song of res, made manifest and integrated deeply into the very core that made up the Faith’s essence. The ship and the res had to be as one, for it was through the res that the magecrafter’s vision became reality. Res, or more specifically a managed and consistent form of water reimancy would be the driving force that carried the ship across the waters of lake Ravok. Just as Elias propelled himself through the canals of the city by using his reimancy upon his ravosala, so too would the Purity carry itself across the gentle waves of their lake, just on much bigger scale. To be carried and pushed by the water, not just sail through it, that was his design, and should all go as planned, it could cut travel time across the lake in half, if not more. Not to mention all the other perks of being able to move that fast.

The thundering crescendo of hammer meeting wood saturated the room and seeped into every facet of Elias’s being. At the point of impact, every blast of force being flashed into djed rang and chimed around him as he worked quickly, the crackling waves of magic rushing down the great sea vessel. Twisted and untangled by Elias’ subsequent strikes, each one spat out the unwanted and gave the remaining a purpose and position until the conduits began to thrum faster and faster. The mage began to streamline the whole affair, painstakingly smoothing down the rough edges of the conduits so as to lay the groundwork for even finer work down the line. With hammers blazing in his hands, their forceful glow had become painfully bright to his auristic sight as they emptied themselves of the last dregs of djed. His fingers pained him something fierce after so long and were pulsing to the manifold rhythms of his strikes, the phantom impacts still thrumming up his arms.

The work lasted hours and by its conclusion -or rather the conclusion of Elias’s stamina- the mage was spent. Sweat beaded and dripped from his forehead, his legs trembled, his arms ached, and every part of him seemed to hurt in some way or another. Yet, for all his toil the djed shaper could not feel the exhaustion creeping upon him, for it paled in comparison to his sheer excitement.

“Is it… is it ready?” A cracking voice asked anxiously behind him.

Elias turned slowly, surprised to see Odell had entered while he was lost in the midst of his passion. The other stryfer was gawking at the ship, clearing sensing the same eminence that Elias was. “Nearly.” Elias assured. The ship was close to completion, true, but the next few days would see the sorcerer climbing all over its hull like a lizard, searching out and meticulously correcting ever little pathway and conduit in order to make sure the djed flowed just as it was meant to.

“Then…?”

“Yes,” the pale man answered knowingly “It has worked. When ready, it will do exactly as I promised you and more. There will be no faster ship on this lake than the Purity of Faith. You will be the envy of every other captain on these sacred waters.”

Odell beamed. “Then you have kept up your end of the bargain, Caldera. As will I.” The officer turned a keen eye unto the mage, straightening as he did so. “You have my support, as promised. My men and I will follow master Malachai in his dream of a new Ravok, and if this ship will accomplish all that you say it can, then it will be at your disposal when the time comes to make that dream a reality. I will speak to the others among the Drift who I am certain feel the same way."

Odell fished something from his pocket and tossed it nonchalantly to the other stryfer. Elias caught it, looking at the strange shell like artifact -for it was certainly an artifact, he could sense the djed- and gave the man a curious look. "A little gift I think you'll find most useful. You have my thanks for this, friend.”

A wicked grin slithered across pale lips.

“Come now, brother, no need for thanks. For we are friends now are not? And what are favors between friends.”

WC - 769