22nd Winter 521 AV – Alric’s Shack It was going to be a long day, that much was certain as he swung his legs out of his bed and rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, massaging them awake before making his way to the chair. After taking a few sips from the waterskin that dangled from the back of it he sighed and set about laying the wood into the square box formation required for easy lighting, dry, shredded tinder inside the four walls of kindling, and lighting it with a few strikes of flint and steel. As he watched the flames start crackling to life, placing a layer if kindling above them and then blowing gently, encouragingly, he remembered the man who had shown him how to do it all – Nerrell. He briefly wondered to himself, as placed a log atop the flames and then sat back to thumb tobacco into his pipe and lit it, how the man would have reacted to everything Alric was going through. “Sold me down the river probably” Alric chuckled into the fire as he puffed away. Nerrell had been the one to tell him all the bad magic stories, amongst others, he’d probably have hated Alric and got him killed. Not the man’s fault Alric knew now, it was Sunberth’s hatred overriding reality. Certainly, as Alric closed his eyes and retreated back into himself, finding his well after some difficulty and simply hanging above it mentally, he would not have approved of what Alric’s task was for the day – learning more of Auristics and Shielding. He stayed that way for a while, exploring the feeling more than he had before, finding the stillness comforting as his mind’s eye showed him that ever still pool of water, deeper than he could see and surrounded by the hard, rugged mountains. A scrap of forest had appeared now, dotting the mountains at their bottom, abutting the land at the water’s edge. Was this what Moritz had meant when he had spoken of finding an image, a way, of finding that deep stillness? Tazrae had shown him the way, had formed the picture for him…or had she simply revealed wat she had felt was already within him? The picture she knew he’d naturally gravitate toward? He pushed that thought, and all other thoughts, from his mind for a while – whilst interesting they were not necessary for what he wanted to achieve and he needed all the focus he could get, the day was going to be a draining one. He touched his ‘well’ and let it fill him as he had experienced before, seeking the ‘passive’ state of his Auristics at first and feeling his skin begin to tingle as it crept upon him with the influx of his Djed. Touch deepened, sound took on ethereal quality and scents were amplified. The last were his eyes, his vision rippling and distorting to reveal, as if a curtain had been opened, the world beneath the world. He sighed into it, it was become a curiously comforting feeling. “Now…how had she put it? Like cooking? Taking things from here and there and combining? Well…I am no cook…hmm…but a heist…a heist has multiple parts – the lockpicking whilst listening for guards, the creeping in the shadows whilst watching for traps….hmmm” he muttered to himself, not feeling it was the same but deciding to use it as a starting point. He took a deep breath and focused upon feeding his sense with Djed, splitting the flow now so that he was also sending a small portion into his left hand, willing it, as he had before, into his palm and fingertips, under his nails and forcing it from his skin. He felt it gather there but not come out, a problem he had had last time also, and frowned, concentrating with as much of is mind as he dared on the idea of it being forced out of him hand, cupping it so that he would see when it was successful. I was a painstaking process, one which felt like it took longer than it had than the last time, a fact that concerned him slightly. Was he doing it wrong? Taz had had no issues like this, though he supposed she was more experienced…and…wait she had a focus – singing. “Stupid…move your damned hand” he chided himself, looking upon the cup he had placed before him ready for this exercise – he could see there was a dark line through it, almost a spider web in places, which intuitively he knew meant that it was weakening and might break soon – it had been a cheap affair after all. He shifted his hand forwards and instead of focusing upon his hand and Djed he focused upon the cup, upon the idea of forming a small dome over it with his Djed, a shield for the cup. Moving his fingers slowly, methodically, as if showing clay with his hand, he smiled as the Djed began to extrude upon his gestures. “Progress” he muttered, both triumph and uneasiness in his tone. He still was not fully comfortable with what he was having to do. |